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onlyseokmins · 8 months

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babymaker • c.s.c

Pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), roommates!au, fwb!au, lil angst if you squint plus gross fluff Warnings: swearing, mentions of past rough/marathon sex, edging, overstimulation, fingering, mentions of oral sex (fem. receiving, male teasing), biting (bc i wrote this), scratching, marking, mentions of car/exhibitionism sex, objectification, degradation, slight choking, tiny obsession w/ cheol's ass + tatts, making out and tons of kithing uwu, reader's a brat and economic major, cheol's a wealthy arrogant bbygorl, creampies <3, breeding kink, light mentions of babytrapping (look at the title lmfao), lots of touching and groping and teasing, sappy stuff ew, messy sex, kinda bulge kink haha, paragraph/word heavy, throwing in some silliness as usual, & lmk if i missed smth WC: 7.9k A/N: i know it's like a month late but this was suppposed to be for cheol's birthday lmfao but it's also meant to be a sequel to Lusty Gallant although it can be read on it's own ig esp since the characters seem ooc </3 also thanks to @hwanghyunjinenthusiast for giving me details on what cheol kithes taste like mwah

Seungcheol and you still live together. And yes, that means you're still committed to fucking on every surface possible in the very nice apartment space comfortable for two.

Roommates with benefits works out well for the both of you — seeming to lean mostly in your favor.

University is a hop and a skip away, close enough for Seungcheol to swing by on his way home from the office with a minor detour. The attractive man's appearance always causes several students to squeal and twirl their hair when he parks next to the sidewalk in a sleek, expensive black and red car. Silver rings that probably cost as much as your tuition adorn long fingers as they tap, tap, tap against the leather steering wheel while he waits.

Seungcheol looks for you over the rim of fake sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose and tongue poking between brilliant white teeth revealed by a smug smirk. Your friends are not subtle — a few in-the-know of what kind of arrangement you have with him and the majority of others not — when they dig an elbow into your ribs or smack your arm in excitement.

You loathe the gawking stares with the same amount of intensity as the tiny sparkle of delight that allows yourself to bask in Seungcheol's showy display of attention that's only partially for you. Aware of what he really loves is soaking up everyone focused on him, brushing back bangs with a pleased grin after checking himself out for the hundredth time in the rearview mirror.

Still, the man is as punctual as clockwork despite a hectic schedule. Deluding yourself is fun whenever he rolls down the window and asks just loud enough for onlookers to hear and swoon over, "How was night class, sweet stuff? Did my luckiest charm learn anything new to advise me on the market's trends?" and receiving an eye roll in return.

"I keep saying you don't have to do this," you remind him every. single. time. because you're sincerely fine walking back the same route you take in the morning.

"Nonsense, it'd be a sin to let a pretty little thing like you walk the city streets in the dark all alone. 'sides it's on my way."

"Of course, as long as it's convenient."

"Convenient?" he repeats with a cocked eyebrow and watches as you slide into the ridiculous car with a cute but sulky pout. An indication that something has ruffled your feathers, if even just a little.

You know not to slam the door too hard when closing it because the one time you did just to be a brat, your battered pussy paid the price. It was very sore for a good couple of days after being repeatedly edged for hours as punishment. First by his fingers during the drive home, next with his mouth on the hood of said car after he'd pulled into the garage, and then teasing touches along the several little pit stops on the way to the bedroom.

All until you were pressed face-down into silky sheets, finally allowed to let go for the first time of the night with his thick girth easing its way inside of your aching cunt to the hushed words of, "Have to touch my baby gently, treat 'em with lotsa care. Always gotta play nice with the things I like, 'kay?"

Safe to say, you learned your lesson. Who wouldn't after being nearly bedridden and limping around for almost two days?

Seungcheol lets out the same kind of disappointed huff when you apologized to him for having to take care of you after that particularly harsh sex marathon — or any time, for that matter. "I've never thought of it as an inconvenience."

"You're a busy man."

"Not so busy that I can't pick you up, 'specially given that we live together."

"Under various terms and conditions. One of them being that I put up with all your inconveniences, not vice versa."

"Then simply think of it as an additional nuisance of mine you have to deal with. You know I won't do anything you don't want, but at least let me have this so I know you're safe." Another harsh sigh leaves his mouth as he adds, "Even if the university was on the other side of town, I'd be there."

"Yeah, okay."

While there's a general love-hate relationship with your sassy behavior, it's in times like these where he extremely dislikes it since the timing is rather improper to fuck it out of you. Alas, he's left to fumble for an alternative that presents him as a man who possesses some semblance of decorum.

"Can drive something else, find a car that doesn't draw so much attention."

"It's not the car," you snap back without thinking. Lips pressing together in a thin line when Seungcheol's fingers that wish they were on your thigh drum menacingly on the console as a substitute, rings flashing under the glow of the passing streetlights.

"Then what is it?" Your name falls from his lips in a soft, commanding kind of plea.

Lucky for you, the short drive is almost over and you can avoid answering for the last couple of minutes. Pretending to mull it over as you focus on steadying the pounding thump of your heart and the erratic breath caught in your lungs.

"It's nothing," you lie fairly easily, already slinking out of the car the minute he brakes in the garage and ignoring the dark brown eyes trained on you because they will make you hesitate. You have to stay firm or end up caught in his trap. "Just tired, 's all. I'm gonna head to bed early, see you in the morning?"

And you don't wait for a response. Gently closing the car door and then sprinting as unsuspiciously as possible into your designated bedroom. Seungcheol won't follow or pry for now. He's always made a point to respect any boundaries you set and the promise to see him when you wake up will keep the man at bay for now. And you sure as hell were going to use all of that to your advantage, curling up under a blanket and trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.

This "roommates with a multitude of benefits" arrangement worked. Chugging along like a well-oiled mechanism. So why were you contemplating the risk of messing it up and throwing the machine off its steady track? For something so fleeting? So emotional? The one thing that always fucks up these kinds of relationships?

Sure, you were in love with the way Seungcheol carried himself. His swagger. His money. Confidence, charisma, oh… and his cock, too. Who wouldn't be? But now, oh no, now you were also in love with the man himself — stupid Choi Seungcheol!

It was a gradual build. Always there in the background. All it took was for you to acknowledge its existence. Perhaps it was meant to play out this way. But you were still going to hold him responsible as an equal in contributing to this mess just as much as you were for falling. Your fingers clutch at the blanket, the poor fleece serving as an unfortunate outlet for your frustration.

When did the crazy marathons dwindle out? By no means had the two of you stopped fucking — absolutely not. It just meant that, well, rather than Seungcheol just fucking you, he more or less made love to you.

You feel a shiver down your spine and scream into a pillow at the worms writhing in your brain.

The sex was still terrific. You habitually muffle your sounds as it is — not ones of pure frustration like tonight — but out of extreme pleasure. The filthy debauchery hadn't changed either. The two of you deeply reveled in your depraved dynamics and more insane acts, maybe even getting dirtier once this subtle shift happened.

Safety. Security. Seungcheol.

Words you would've never thought to use in relation to him.

And then there was the aftercare. A strange new intimacy. He cuddled in bed after taking the effort to clean each other up for a good night's rest. Remaining there fast asleep and quietly snoring long after you untangle yourself from the comforting warmth of his arms to start the day. Mornings were no longer cold because he chose to stay.

Weekends were becoming your favorite too. When he waddles around shirtless, barely awake upon discovering you gone from his embrace. A back-hug immediately when finding you again. Soft gropes at your curves and low groans of contentment while pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent mixed with his while you prep breakfast. Turning you around for kisses and pursuing long, slow makeout sessions that were quickly becoming the norm. Only for you to accidentally bite down a little too hard on his bottom lip when you realize the toast is burning.

You miss the way his eyes shine with affection as they follow you panicking around the kitchen. When did this big apartment of his begin to feel so alive? Even previous roommates and their loud yammering hardly made him feel at home. Tonguing at the indentation marks of your teeth molded into his lip and the sting that keeps him rooted in the present moment, the man meets your flustered expression with a grand, playful smile.

Ah, he thinks fondly, obviously.

Afternoons no longer consist of being stowed away in respective bedrooms or different rooms. Seungcheol sits at the kitchen table, furrowed eyebrows as he chips away at the excel sheet reflected in the glasses perched on his nose. You sit across from him, dutifully typing up assignments for Sunday night submittal.

He'll ask occasional questions just to learn more about you, your classes, and your dreams. Or if you simply need any help. Meanwhile, you make sure you're both staying hydrated and taking necessary breaks to rest your eyes from the screens. Sometimes you'll even get to assist him by analyzing a report. The real-world example aids as a unique use case scenario to better understand the concepts outlined in your textbooks.

You really were Seungcheol's lucky charm. He often wonders if you'd like to apply to work at the company he's in. But he'd hate to pressure or patronize you. So ultimately all he can do is stare in awe and provide steady encouragement as you formulate calculations, clean up the data, and transform it all into a presentable display of information.

It's usually his turn to cook in the evenings. Constantly getting distracted by your presence that he insists needs to be around to taste-test the vegetables that keep overcooking when he gets too caught up in tasting you. Innocent smooches here and there amid shy giggling that seems far too intimate than if he lapped at something else like in the past when he eagerly devoured your cunt right there on the countertop.

When dinner is served, you honestly never know or care how tasty it is or isn't because Seungcheol himself is the spice in your life. Your plain world now explodes in a bountiful amount of flavor thanks to him. Later, you tidy up the kitchen together — similar to how you move in tandem to freshen up in the bathroom after sex and much like a married couple would act.

And that's why your damn roommate leaves you wanting more.

These nights he kisses you bathed in the moonlight, working up a blistering heat that doesn't just simmer in your lower abdomen but follows the journey of his dedicated mouth. Upwards the wildfire burns, swooping into your chest and underneath the skin of your cheeks until it tangles with the expert tongue poking in between your lips. Seungcheol charts familiar territory with dancing fingertips across your skin, re-committing it to memory while yours sear into his, scratching at the wide expanse of his back and burying themselves in the curls of his unruly hair.

He takes you to bed — not always in a sexual manner — and it really doesn't even matter how you end up there because that is where you'll find yourself anyway. Falling asleep in his arms and waking up to repeat this strange and newly established cycle.

So the fact that you are sleeping alone speaks volumes. What is said, you're unsure but little do you know that Seungcheol continues to fear you might slip out of his hands. The attached-detached battle strategy always lurks around the corner and somehow, it's almost better when he treats you like some sort of fucktoy only.

The gentle sparkle in his eye was shielded by the switch to a mean glint, eyeing you up like you're nothing better than a piece of meat. No longer acting as the sweet yet cocky, handsome roommate you've gotten to know and grown feelings for. But reminiscent of the aloof and arrogant — still deviously attractive — man who propositioned this whole situation a little over a year ago.

Like now, as you kneel on all fours naked. Save for the humble pair of underwear whose innocence has long been destroyed due to the stains of your arousal mixed with Seungcheol's cum. Ruining the fabric that nestles between your legs for the sake of modesty you've thrown away hours — no, months — ago.

The very man sits before you on the poor couch that's seen its fair share of sinful acts. He's reclining comfortably, black t-shirt stretching out across a firm chest and broad shoulders while infamous gray sweatpants strain against thick thigh muscles as he manspreads so casually with a large hand laid over his crotch. Teasingly hiding the thing you so desire and are begging for.

But he wants you to work for it. Harder. A lot more than you already have. Put on a proper show of how much you deserve to have him. And want him.

"Come," he commands and pats his thigh like he's talking to some stray dog. When you go to sit back on your knees to stand, his eyes narrow as they darken. "Crawl."

What you don't know is Seungcheol would easily yield to and for you if you'd just let him. Be honest with him. Tell him your feelings. Unfortunately, it's in both of your natures to be hella stubborn. Too prideful to admit defeat and be completely vulnerable. You've come to an impasse.

But crawl to him physically you do, shamelessness long gone. Because what could be more shameful than how willing you are to be used by him and how wonderful it feels to be degraded?

Obviously admitting how much you like the damn man.

Goosebumps thrillingly cover your skin at how the gaze trained on you never loses its intensity with you coming closer, following all the way until your head is between his spread legs. Because he knows at least this is the most definitive way he can hold onto you for now.

"Kiss me."

And you obey, puckering your lips and tenderly placing them against the growing bulge beneath the gray fleece. Looking up with lidded eyes, blinking slowly as you let out audible smooch noises along the hard length before mouthing at where the tip lies. Leaving an even damper spot than the salty excess seeping through the fabric, suckling around the area to replace it with the hot saliva dribbling from your tongue that laps enthusiastically at the taste.

"C'mon pet," Seungcheol's tone is mocking in its chastisement, but the rough pad of his thumb rubbing your warm cheek is gentle. "Gimme a real one."

"Yes sir," falls breathlessly out of your mouth at the assumed permission, hands quickly reaching for the waistband of his sweats only to retract just as fast upon the disapproving click of his tongue.

"Not like that, up."

Uncertain, you brace yourself with the support of his quads so you're kneeling. Leaning in and tentatively pressing a kiss to the spot where you know at least one vein starts from the bottom of his pelvis and leads up to his abdomen. Tongue poking out in an attempt to feel and trace it, also effectively wetting his shirt just for good measure.

This time, a wistful sigh escapes between the man's pouty lips despite the furrowing of eyebrows because you're still not quite getting the message. The hand on your cheek slides down to your neck, briefly running his thumb tantalizingly across the side of your throat, landing on your shoulder, and grasping at your arm. Tugging up until you follow along with the motion and a bit of a surprised squeak, ultimately landing right where he wants you — straddling his lap.

"Oh," you mutter in surprise, abruptly snapped out of the lust haze that had been clouding your mind.

Center of gravity thrown off balance until your knees finally ground themselves on either side of his spread legs. Your hands hover awkwardly in the air, struggling to find something to hold onto before resolutely settling on the back of the couch. But not before Seungcheol's sturdy hands steady your hips, sporty reflexes acting faster than you can complete any of these actions.

"Oh, indeed. Already too fucked out to think?"

"No… s-sorry."

"You can make it up to me," he teases and you wait for the punchline, "with a proper kiss." It's both amazing and brow-raising when the Choi Seungcheol lets out the lowest of whines at the smallest sign of hesitation. "Don'tcha think it's the least I deserve today?"

Spoiled is what he is — but it is his birthday after all — so, of course, you're more than willing to indulge. Although the trepidation is real, manifesting in the tense stiffening of your body and the acceleration of your heart rate.

"Relax," he says gleefully — a little too gleeful. "I don't bite."

"Most times, not."

"If anyone's the biter between us, it's you so…"

The taunting murmur of, "Go ahead and bite baby," turns into a satisfied groan when you press your lips against his. Contrary to the jest and much to his delight, you're gentle. It's so adorable that he finds himself melting below you into a puddle of goo. Becoming absolute putty, lips readily parting so you can lick into his mouth.

He tastes like cherry chapstick and coffee, flavors so Choi Seungcheol that it hurts with how much they alone can possibly overwhelm you. Your nose scrunches, eyebrows following suit. Unaware of how he observes close-up through heavily lidded eyes because he wants more and more of what he can't get enough of. Afraid you might disappear. Even though you're right here — on his lap, kissing him sweetly. Yet you're still not all there.

So, he works on anchoring you to him — somehow, some way. One hand urges you to release your support on the couch, bringing your arm down to sneakily thread his fingers between yours. Naturally, the opposite one falls to eliminate the odd angle and rests on his shoulder. Seungcheol's other palm shifts to splay across your bare back and push you further into his chest, your sensitive nipples brushing against the cotton material of his shirt.

When that burning hand also encourages your ass to sit on his thighs to nearly smother him into the couch cushion and your damp core effectively presses onto the heated length stirring inside his sweats — he finally gets what he's been waiting for. The wanton moan that bubbles out of your throat is quickly swallowed up by the man himself, who ceases the passive role in the makeout session and kisses you back with a fervor that quite literally steals your breath.

He waits for you to surrender.

Not to be confused with submission. Seungcheol no longer cares about any fucked-up or sexual kind of power play nor does he want to win. He doesn't even want you to yield to or for him. Oh, he wishes you would of your own free will — but if you at least give in to the moment, to the feelings of now, and the warmth shared between you two — that's the most he can ask for and what he's grateful to accept for the time being.

Your fingers slip beneath the neckline of his shirt, inadvertently starting to trace along the same pattern as the ink that decorates his skin. The menace of a man smirks, pausing his assault on your lips to croon knowingly, "Wanna move this to your room?"

It's annoying how Seungcheol can read you even before your mind can think. And it's even more irritating at how your body reacts, thighs betraying you. Viscerally squeezing around his figure today, much like the memory of them wrapped above his waist the other day. Legs spread by him in between them as you clung to his body that had been railing into you like there's no tomorrow. Your gaze locked over his shoulder at the man's pride and joy — his nice ass — reflected in the mirror deliberately across from your bed along with the inked designs of things he held dearly marked across his back. Including the healing scratches from your nails.

"No," you grit out and break the kiss to shoot him a pointed glare, "just take off your stupid shirt."

"Thought you'd never ask."

No one should ever look that sexy taking off clothes, but of course, Seungcheol does. Any snark left in you immediately fizzles out at the teasing reveal and intentionally flexed expanse of his stomach as well as his bare chest. And yet something shifts in the air after he throws the shirt off to the side, covering his torso with his arms and giggling.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're gonna devour me whole, it's making me shy!"

It's not like you can stop yourself. Goddamnit, even that weird farmer's tan is drool-inducing. And the boyish smile he dons isn't helping either. You scoff to salvage a fraction of sanity, hands back on his bare shoulders and leaning in close enough for your noses to almost touch.

"Bullshit."

"Bet."

"You love it when people stare at you."

There's a beat of silence. "But you look at me… differently."

"Hey — don't get weird on me, Seungcheol, or your dick's gonna deflate."

Normally he'd bite back at you. Stuff like: "My dick's just fine," or "Baby, it's so easy to get hard around you," and "You'd appreciate if my dick got smaller 'cause it wouldn't make you whine so much," but this time, he doesn't. He just stares at you. Thinking. Long enough for you to start getting antsy, unable to hold eye contact for any longer than two minutes, especially with him so close.

"What?"

"You like me, don't you?"

It's the damn question he throws around all the time and your eyes roll up out of habit. "Yeah, I like you better without a deflated — "

"Forget about my cock for a bit."

"Kind of hard to do," you fire back and try to grind down on the very inflated length twitching needily for the snug cunt it senses between the layers of clothes cruelly separating it from its warm home.

Of course, Seungcheol is a little too familiar with your ploys and swats at your behind before squeezing your hips. "I know it is for a cock-hungry slut like you," he growls out in frustration before reverting back to his original soft tone, "but just humor me for a second."

"… Alright."

"You like me," he states and then repeats it in earnest when you sigh again, "you really like me. I would even be so confident enough to think you're… you're in love — "

"Well quit thinking," you interrupt with a snap, "I know your high and mighty arrogance causes you to believe everyone worships the ground you walk on but that doesn't mean a damn thing!"

Seungcheol's caramel eyes flash — with irritation or hurt, you can't quite place the swirl of emotions. "So that's all it is, huh? Just a figment of my imagination. A totally unfair projection of my thoughts and feelings onto you."

"If you wanted a session so badly on your birthday, then you should've scheduled with your therapist. And if you didn't want to continue fucking, then we could've stopped after the first round 'cause I was fine but you wanted more."

"You and I both know we're not just 'fucking'," he snarls, "and yeah, I do want more and that's why I need to know — with or without the sex, forgetting about the looks I know aren't just lust-filled because I see the ones you think I don't, I need to hear it out loud — do you like me?"

The plea of your name is the doomed cherry on top, heart thudding to the floor. It feels like the breath has been punched out of you. Though his skin is fiery warm beneath your palms it's not enough to thaw the way you've completely frozen over.

"Fine," you eventually wheeze out and Seungcheol relaxes — relieved — despite the crack in your voice, only to tense at your next words. "I'll move out tomorrow. Might take me a few days to get all my stuff gathered though."

"Wait… wait, wait… '' And this is the moment when the two of you find out that the black jujitsu belt he'd earned wasn't all for naught, effectively using a well-maneuvered technique that takes you off his lap and onto your back before you can escape from him again. "Please."

He begs, desperation evident in the way he clings to you and flops his forehead defeatedly onto your shoulder. As if he isn't the one who has you pinned to the couch cushions. He's never tried to hinder you before but honestly, he thinks he's hit the breaking point.

Don't you dare fucking leave me, is what is thought — but what comes out is a broken, "Why?"

"Because… because I… I breached the c-contract and made you uncomf — "

Seungcheol's head flies back up. "Then it should be me who moves out 'cause I'm pretty sure I violated the contract first."

"Wh-what?"

"Look at me," he commands and grips your chin so you can't turn away, "look at me, baby." And when your eyes squint open to stare into his, he fixes you with the most sincere expression you've ever seen. "I'm in love with you."

Tears spring to your eyes at the wild admission. Neither of you are sure if your hearts are mending or splitting to fuse and complete the other's. What you do know is that Seungcheol melts into you with a kiss of elation and celebration, the big man further turning into an even bigger pile of mush when your hands cup both of his cheeks during it and a thumb rubs soothingly at his jaw. He smiles against your lips when you whisper back, "I love you too."

"Took you long enough." Your flustered protests are cut short when he sits up to lean against the opposite armrest, pulling you on top of him like your original positions. "Have a present for you."

"But you're the one who should be receiving gifts."

He shrugs. "I already have the prettiest one right here in my arms… even if I was almost left alone on my birthday."

"Sorry," you stroke his pouty lips, "to be fair, I was going to wait until tomorrow."

"While holed up all by yourself in your room in the meantime. Little shit, you know I wouldn't have let you go, right?"

"Yeah… because you love me!"

There's an extra giddiness to your exclamation that's contagious enough to crack Seungcheol's chagrined expression with another grin.

"And you were gonna leave 'cause you loved me…" He lets out a huff. "Whatever, water under the bridge. Anyways, the gift. It's underneath the couch."

Curious, you lay flat and brush your hand beneath the furniture. Waving it around back and forth in the blind search, subsequently shifting all over Seungcheol's chest — bare skin gliding across bare skin.

You snicker, feeling his cock stiffening once more with your movements. "Calm down, horndog."

"It's not my fault you're rubbing your very sexy body all over me!"

"… Why'd you even decide to put it here?"

"'Cause you never clean."

"Hey! Don't make me bite your dick off." It twitches beneath you. "Freak."

"We'll see who the real freak is when I go ahead and get it pierced with a barbell you'll like."

"Oh, fuck off!" comes your retort and he grumbles at the lighthearted jab while your hand finally bumps against a hard box that you grasp onto tightly. Pulling it out and frowning at the suspicious amount of dust covering it. "Gee, how long was this down here?"

"… Six months."

Your eyes bug out. "Six months?!"

"Told ya you didn't clean under there!"

"Oh yes, because that's the point here."

"It kind of is," Seungcheol teases despite the slightly wistful look in his eyes. "Knew you wouldn't find it there."

All you can do is shake your head, gingerly opening what you assume to be a jewelry box only to abruptly shut it out of pure shock. "What the fuck did I just see?!"

"Do… do you not like it?"

"That's so not the question that needs to be asked right now."

"It kind of does 'cause if you don't want it, I'll buy something else. "

"You've gotta be shittin' me." You fix him with a hard glare though he barely reacts to it. "How much of your bank account did you deplete for that?"

A satisfied, cocky smirk is all you get in return. "'Tis but a bucket of water taken out of the ocean, sweetheart. Trivial."

"Choi Seungcheol."

"C'mon," he takes the box from you with one large hand and pops it back open. You can actually feel the ache in your eyes set in at the sight of the dazzling jewels once again. "Thought it'd look gorgeous on you."

It's easy to visibly melt at his words because he's such a smooth talker along with the knowledge that he's kept this hidden for approximately half of a year. But that still doesn't distract you from the insane amount of delicate crystals forming a beautiful open heart shape linked to two short double-strands of diamond studs on either side that join together with a silver clasp.

"It looks expensive," you correct, "how much was it?"

"Hmm, well it's seventeen carats so… a couple thousand, maybe?"

Your jaw drops, eyes widening as one of Seungcheol's beefy fingers carelessly thumbs at the choker like the piece of jewelry couldn't pay off more than half of your student debt. You likely also get some type of look on your face because he clicks his tongue.

"Now, don't you worry your pretty little head about it. I would happily spend ten times as much to get something that expresses just a fraction of what your worth is — in the world and… to me."

"You're so sappy, what the heck."

"Better not start something you can't handle, love." Seungcheol kindly warns, a little affronted when his puppy dog eyes and babygirl pout aren't as effective at distracting you as he'd like. Well, there are other ways. "You can't return it without testing it first."

"Testing?"

"Mhm, but why don't you give your sugar daddy a kiss of gratitude first?"

You scoff. "The only thing you share in common with a glucose guardian is being filthy rich."

"Not because I'm sweet like sugar?"

"Maybe just a little," you admit and lean in to give him an even sweeter kiss, much like earlier. And like before, the man turns into a puddle of syrupy goo at the featherlight touches of your lips on his.

But it's different at the same time. Kissing your roommate has always been with a bit of restraint. That all fades away as you melt into him — safety, security, Seungcheol, surrender — the both of you addicted to and lost in one another's taste while everything else falls away.

Until the little shit that he is distracts you enough for him to deftly extract the choker from its box and fasten it around your neck. You hiss at the shock of cold metal and gemstones as well as the physical and economically ethical weight around your neck, breaking the makeout session.

"See? Gorgeous, just like I thought. Not that you can look at it right now… maybe next time, we'll test it, heh, in your room."

"So that's what you meant by test…"

The lightbulb finally goes off in your head but all you receive in response is a smug look. Unaware that the grand menace is pondering what position he'd like best to see the choker for the first time in action. Something inside him clicks after absentmindedly slipping a finger underneath one of the diamond chains and watching you attempt to swallow at the increase in pressure constricting your airflow.

It's all bright white teeth when he smiles and whispers, "On your back, baby."

And you shuffle backwards obediently, letting gravity take your body down in almost a mini trust fall, knowing there will be a soft landing and that Seungcheol would never let you fall — unless it's for him.

Indeed, he does fall with you. Bodies pressed close together before he starts a burning trail of kisses starting below where the jeweled collar lays sparkling prettily against your throat. Down between your breasts he goes, an appreciative squeeze to both with warm hands that follow along with his movement.

Little nibbles to your skin and brushes to your sides that first have you squealing at the sharp nips and ticklish sensations. They're accompanied by the upward curl of his lips that only spreads wider when those airy giggles of yours transition to light moans the closer he stakes his claim to the more intimate parts of your body.

He lovingly suckles the skin of your tummy, leaving stinging signs of affection littered around your belly button and right above the band of your panties. There, Seungcheol pauses and lifts his head to look directly at you, not even trying to hide the fiery swirl of lust and adoration in his eyes and it makes you wonder how you've ever missed it before.

But that's neither here nor there, every nerve in your system is lit up in a wave of heat that has your hips instinctively rising as if pleading with him. Enough that his brown irises can't help but flit down to observe with raised eyebrows only to meet your flustered expression again with a totally-full-of-himself stare.

"So sweet and needy," Seungcheol murmurs appreciatively and hooks both thumbs underneath the side wings of your underwear to tug them off. "So fuckin' messy too," he adds in a condescending tone as if someone between your legs isn't licking his lips like a man lost in the desert for days stumbling upon a hidden oasis.

The bold eye contact he gets a kick out of maintaining is broken just to watch how the fabric adheres to your center thanks to the mix of his cum from much earlier and the constant leak of arousal pooling from your heated core. He's slow in the process of removing the saturated clothing. Giddy anticipation building until it finally peels away with a suggestive squelch to reveal your creampied cunt.

A choked groan rumbles in his chest. You're caught in the struggle between snapping your legs together out of shyness or letting them fall open just as he likes, the fear of soiling the couch again no longer even a thought. But still in no rush, Seungcheol slips your panties down one leg and while they hang off the other, supports your heel in his palm to place butterfly kisses along your ankle.

You peek at him in between the fingers covering your eyes and heated cheeks. "What are you doing?"

"Admiring you." Smooch. "Adoring you." Peck. "Marveling at how beautifully wet you get… this all for me, love?"

"Yeah, so… so you should take re-responsibility."

"Oh? And how so? What for?"

"Mmph!" You jolt at how fast he moves to fling your underwear over his shoulder and hover over top of you, whispering naughty words into your ear while roughened finger pads brush against slick folds.

"For knockin' you up? Not my fault this hungry pussy is never satisfied no matter how many times I stuff it. Greedy lil' thing."

"'m s-sorry… I — oh! Ohh…"

"You don't sound sorry."

Seungcheol mocks the shuddering moan that spills past your lips like he hadn't just shoved two chunky digits past those slippery folds and into the suffocating warmth beyond. His pointer finger bears its usual silver ring, the cold metal there and around your neck causing you to break out in a sweat at the chill engulfing your whole body. All from the heat swirling from the neck down, the torturous buildup between your legs, and meeting in a firestorm that explodes in your gut and makes your cunt tighten around his moving digits.

Your right arm snakes behind his nape and clings around it for dear life, nearly slamming the man's face into your tits — not that he's complaining — while the other sneaks between your bodies. Trailing down to where Seungcheol's fingers plunge inside of you, running yours across his exposed knuckles to dampen them with the filthy mix of arousal and cumstains he's playing in before tugging and teasing at your clit right above his vigorous actions.

He clicks his tongue. "Now, what did I say about touching things that belong to me?"

"Don't touch without permission." A warning look that lacks any ferocity is shot your way but the corner of your lips quirks up, eyelashes fluttering, because he's really just full of shit. "And to handle… handle them with care, which 's all I'm doin'."

"Brat."

"You love me."

"Damn right, I do. But if you're gonna use that against me like this maybe I have no choice but to discipline you."

You whimper when he withdraws his fingers, the loss and emptiness a punishment itself. "D-don't be mean."

"I'm never mean to you."

"You're not." You acquiesce with a cute little sniffle, interlocking your hands behind his neck to bring him down nose to nose. "'cept when I want your dick but s'kay, love you anyways."

"Using the L-word on me now, huh? Speaking of which, I never got you back for the little stunt you tried to pull earlier."

"Wha — ?"

The new position you had pulled him into grants Seungcheol the full teasing power he was honored to be blessed with. A dripping cock leaks precum between your bodies and smears your belly with the hot excess. Supported by a forearm beside your head, he languidly strokes his hard length and snickers. Barely wedging the mushroomed tip into your moist outer folds with a noisy squish and emitting a strangled groan from the back of the man's throat. Just enough so you can feel the faint tantalizing burn his girth promises in its efforts to stretch out your cunt, a buzz to the underside of your deliciously sore and engorged clit upon contact.

He's all toothy when you moan in response. Wiggling his hips lets him dip in a little further for the sole purpose of watching your eyes glaze over and threaten to roll to the back of your head. Lips parting wider in an adorable 'o' shape.

"Thought you could just leave like it's nothing. As if I don't fuck you full of enough cum to babytrap you here with me… Oh? You'd like that wouldn't you, pussy tryna gobble me up like the slutty whore that you are."

"Mmph, ah… only yours!"

No one has to be your special someone to read your body so easily but it's the fact that he is the one who's able to make your cunt react and squeeze around him just like so that fuels his ego. A mean sneer chisels his softer face features — less of a reaction towards you and more of him struggling not to plunge his pelvis forward and rearrange your guts. Or even worse (better), to bust a nut inside, painting your velvet walls with a creamy white.

It would be so easy to slide in a little further… you're begging him with slurred words and a steady pulsating grip around his dick — just daring him to ease the rest of it inside.

But then you would never learn your lesson. And if there's one thing Seungcheol loves more than being wrapped up in the tight clench of your cunt, it's making you work for it. Show off how desperate and cock-drunk you are.

"Y'know, all you had to do was tell me. Would've fucked you on every surface of this house, make sure there wasn't a moment that passed where you didn't have my cum dripping down your legs." He relents with the most meager of thrusts forward, widening the spread of your pretty folds suckling around him. "Anything to keep my darling 'lil babymaker satisfied, pump you full every minute of the day and make sure it takes."

"Ch-Cheol… please! Wan' you so bad."

"You'd like that, right? Givin' you a baby so you stay here forever. We'll make as many as you want, I'll even take time off to help." The sudden rush of paternal instincts makes the man pause, chuckling and muttering more to himself, if anything, "maybe you've been tryna babytrap me all along."

"Jus' want, just want your dick."

"I know, baby."

Seungcheol simpers at your pitiful plea but the menace in him victoriously pulls out and away, the departing wet 'pop' as loud as the slight fracture in his heart at doing so.

"No!"

In visible grief, your seizing legs clamp at his side with your heels digging into the dip right before the curve of his ass, clawing at his shoulder blades like a cat. That does nothing though except squish his length against your needy cunt, gliding pathetically against it but not once inside.

He smirks and whispers hoarsely, "If you want it so bad, put it in yourself."

A shaky hand reaches down to grasp and stroke at his dick, inadvertently brushing against your swollen clit that has your hips jumping. You bite down on your lower lip in an attempt to concentrate, blindly guiding his slippery cockhead to where it rightfully belongs. All while Seungcheol watches with amusement and a pained expression of how heavenly your hand feels on him — and even more when you succeed and bully him inch by inch inside of your gummy walls that suction and ripple greedily.

"There we go, yeah fuck… just like that."

Further and further, squelch by squelch until your pussy stretches to swallow and take him all. Only a finger's width between your pelvises kissing one another, knuckles snug against his heavy scrotum. You release him with triumph, clinging again to his neck. Seungcheol takes the final push and you let out simultaneous moans when his balls settle warmly against your ass and the neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his shaft are flush with your pubic bone. The tiny rough strands becoming even more soft and soaked by all of the arousal leaking out of your hole and his slit.

"Mine," he affirms and sticks his pinky through the open diamond heart pendant, nail lightly scratching the front of your throat.

"Yours." You hold onto his wrist, finally feeling so deliriously full and giggling a bit because you're somewhat light-headed. "You're mine too."

"Yeah, all yours, baby."

Seungcheol's beginning thrusts are slow, deep, and concentrated. He barely leaves your warmth, only sliding a little bit back before a harsh thrust forward to nudge his tip against the rougher spot that has some drool dribbling at the corner of your mouth out of sheer pleasure.

That doesn't last long though, the both of you are extremely worked up and super sensitive. It only takes a few minutes before he's setting an erratic pace. Strong forearms cage your head to protect it and keep you somewhat stationary while giving him enough strength to absolutely plow into you without forgiveness.

The couple thousand dollar choker starts to shift against your skin, bouncing ever so slightly in time with each repetition of relentless slams into your pussy. Such a sight delights Seungcheol so much, eyes focused on the glittery accessory and listening for its rhythmic jingle — bruising your tender flesh in ways that his lips don't — that ends up drowned out by the continual slap of the hard fucking he delivers.

"Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Let me fill ya up?"

"S-soon! 'm gonna cum… so soon!"

"I… know. Oh fuck, I know baby. Let go for me, please. Surrender… ngh 'n give it all to me."

A powerful climax washes over you like a surprise, the setoff finalized by the large hand placed on your tummy. Applying just enough pressure to feel every vein and ridge of the cock against your inner walls while on the outside, Seungcheol lets out a guttural and feral groan at the upward bulge beneath his fingertips.

You let go with a wail that's swallowed by his lips capturing yours. Your nails dig into whatever you're grasping onto, teeth unconsciously biting down on his tongue you meant to simply caress with your own.

He lets out a strangled "oomph!" but the pain is easily sedated by the seductive way you contract and massage his dick in your unraveling — and then unprompted, he's spilling over the edge too. Coating your walls in thick ropes of white that sear your insides, gobbling up the release with repeated clenches as you both pant and wait for the orgasmic bliss to fade out.

"I think you're so sexy." Seungcheol mumbles the words tiredly into your shoulder and the laugh you let out sounds more like a winded wheeze.

"How lucky I am that you think that, has the post-nut clarity hit yet or… ?"

"I'm serious. I love you."

"I love you too. Happy birthday to my perfect sugar boyfriend or whatever."

He snorts, lifting his head to send you a lazy grin. "Yeah, happy birthday to me — the luckiest bitch on the planet to be loved by you."

"Spoiled is more like it but yeah. I'd say I'm pretty lucky too."

Adoration shines in both of your weary eyes, though Seungcheol has the audacity to lick his now very dry and cracked lips. "Say, was I right in picking out your gift or do you need more test runs?"

"What I need is a hot bath — no funky business — and at least twenty-four hours of sleep."

"That sounds good too. Y'know… if we sleep for a whole other day and confirm our relationship then, we can fuck for two days straight every year as an anniversary celebration!" His voice lowers, already acting naughty and unintentionally work himself up. "And then I'm positive you'll be bred properly."

You slap his shoulder. Hard. "Choi Seungcheol!"

"'m just kiddin'," he blatantly lies and gently pulls out of your sloppy pussy. Grunting at the goop and messy wetness that got everywhere. "Think we'll need to get a new couch."

"Great idea! Now, you can spend your money on something practical."

"Love you too."

"God, what did I get myself into." When you roll your eyes, a toothy grin is what you receive in return.

"I dunno, love, but I think this roommates to fuck buddies to lovers arrangement will work out beautifully, don't you?"

You give him another kiss just to shut him up. If you ever admit he's right, well, that would be with a mouthful of cock and a story saved for another time.

onlyseokmins: September 2023 ©

#ez.creates #svthub #svt.smut #seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol smut #smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #scoups smut #I secretly loathe this fic 😭#1k 🌟

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a-d-nox · 7 months

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what's a mercury return?

did you know that you can check more than just your sun's return? any time a planet transits and becomes exactly conjunct your planet (it is in the exact sign and degree it was when you were born), you undergo a planetary return. mars returns happen roughly every 2 years (unless there is a retrograde too). my mercury return is coming up this october, so i thought once more let's continue breaking these down.

but what can a mercury return chart show you?

what your communication style will be like this cycle, what your voice is like, how your thinking changes, your health changes, perspective changes, your writing style or endeavors, social media trends (your online status), short trips you could be taking, your mannerisms and how they change, your mode of transportation / transportation woes, how sound your reasoning is, what you might be prone/apt to forget, gossip you partake in or that is spread about you, and/or how you have best make your daily routines work for you.

sun

egotistical thinking or remarks you make (or are made against you), what makes your voice/writing yours, how healthy you feel, how perceptive you are, what's said about you, how respected your words are / your ability to advise and lead, creative thinking, paise you give and get from others, mode of transportation, ego development, your dignity, social consciousness, positivity you spread, and/or self-expression.

moon

emotional thinking, interactions with your mother / motherly figure, emotional responses to your experiences, instincts to clapback, how you care for your intrusive thoughts, your social comfort zone, how emotional supportive you are this cycle, how you adapt in a social setting, communication habits, and/or comfortability in a social setting.

mercury

how efficiently you communicate, how your mind works, health (woes and otherwise), perception of the world around / how much you notice, writing abilities, social media following or drama, your relationship with your phone, short trips you take, how you get from one place to another, how reasonable you are, how you change, what you might forget, gossip you are involved in (what you participate in and what is said about you), reading habits, and how your daily routine changes.

venus

how you express your love for others, who you find attractive attraction, romantic gestures you make, what you perceive as beauty/beautiful, your ability to express sympathy/empathy for those around, what brings you happiness/joy/pleasure in your day to day life, artistic expression/endeavors, how kind you are to yourself (important for mental health), sentimental/nostalgic thoughts you, ability to reach a compromise with others, your ability to share your thoughts and ideas, what entertains you day to day, what you values, sponsorship, how cheerful you sound, and/or whether/where you are lazy in your routine.

mars

how you express what you are passionate about, self-confidence, ambitious thoughts/ideas, sexual thoughts/ideas, aggressive expressions/thoughts, how you express desire(s), competitive thinking, impulsive responses, how courageous you sound to others, tasks you must take care of in your routine, how you assert your thoughts, social activities, how much energy you have to do what must be done, and/of how enthusiastic you sound.

jupiter

accolades for your academic/written achievements, wealth/expansion of knowledge, success related to education/health/routine, opportunity to learn more, social popularity, where you are brutally honest with others, wisdom you share, ease brought by routines you form, philosophical beliefs and knowledge, optimistic frame of mind, religious knowledge gained, your thoughts on justice / the law, new topics you explore, profitable ideas, your dedication to your studies, and/or mental growth.

saturn

social/health/educational challenges, struggles with mental health, interactions with your father / fatherly figure, social/health anxiety, guilt surrounding the things you say/think, educational delays or delays in you commute, what you learn that will serve you life long, thoughts on aging/time, limitations in your schedule/routine, discipline when maintaining your routine, reminiscing about the past, health deficiencies, practicalities in your routine, efforts to be healthier or get out there in the social realm, mental endurance / ability to persevere hard times, how mature you are when talking with others, and/or grudges you hold against others / actions and words that live rent free in your mind.

uranus

socializing with others, use of technology / social media, surprises/spontaneous gatherings / social interactions, unique conversations, ups and downs in your social reputation, rebellion against others, independent/original thoughts/ideas, what you do in your free time, shocking gossip said about you or what you say about others, chaos in your social realm, and/or fans/followers on social media.

neptune

how kind you are / kind gestures you make, how compassionate you are, creative ideas, your social sensitivity, isolation for others, intuitive thoughts, secrets you have/keep, dreams/imaginative thinking, deception/lies you tell others, delusional thinking, where you lack perception or "hallucinate" (you think you saw something but it's inaccurate or didn't happen at all), trends of confusion in conversations, spiritual exploration, what inspires your new ideas/thoughts/beliefs, and/or what fascinates/captivates your thoughts.

pluto

how your health / social life / mode of transportation changes, what you hold social power, sexual thoughts, destructive thoughts, how you change your routine or what you change in your routine, intense conversations, social magnetism, obsession thoughts, how you manipulate others or how others manipulate you, health of your sexual organs, and/or what you remove from you day to day life.

1h/asc

how identifiable your voice is, how you can make your voice / writing / social media stand out, a majority of first reactions to what you say / how you appear online, how enthusiastic / optimistic you sound, how your mouth/hand appear, how confident you sound, beginnings to the stories you tell, and/or how you initiate conversations with others.

how much you spend on knowledge / time spent talking / writing / on social media, your ability to store/remember knowledge gained, what you do with that knowledge, your ability to profit off of what you know, sponsorships, self-confidence in what you say / write / how you appear online, and/or how your singing voice develops.

how/who you communicate (with), how your speaking voice sounds, how people interpret your writing, how your mind works, your ability to perceive things in the world around you, how your opinions have changed, thoughts/ideas you are conscious of, what you think about your siblings, interactions with your siblings, gossip you take part in, what you like reading during this time period, how you get from only place to another, what you post/view on social media, how much you use your phone, who you visit often, chance of publishing your writing, and/or short trips you take.

4h/ic

how you communicate with family, how you treat your inner child, emotional thoughts/writing, foundations, heredity health issues that arise, traditions / following a ritual, moving locally, and/or your perceived femininity / what you view as feminine.

how you act around children / childish people, childish thoughts you have, creative thoughts/writing, dramatic interactions, risky thoughts/communication, what you say when all eyes/attention is (are) on you, how you and your love interest communicate, local trips/vacations, mental games you play, and/or speculative thinking.

your ideal routine, how you take care of your health, health issues, what you think you are obligated to do, thoughts on how you can improve yourself, innocent thoughts/communication, peoples responses/reactions to what you do for them, what you think of your co-workers, and/or analytical thinking.

7h/dsc

how you communicate about and in long term relationships, thoughts on marriage, how you communicate your concern for others, how you deal with conflicts verbally, how well you work in a group setting, how carefully you (should) read contracts, how your open enemies on social media or in life communicate their dislike/hatred for you, how capable you are at negotiating your terms and conditions, how you keep the peace and harmony amongst others, and/or your ability to share your thoughts.

social transformation/change, sexy talk, thoughts on death, what thoughts you are often stuck thinking about, ideas that you reproduce, how you combine ideas, taboos thoughts/ideas, secrets you keep to yourself, mysterious conversations you have, magical hobbies/rituals your preform, your connection with you therapist or the shadow work you do on your own, thoughts on surgery/operations, and/or trauma thoughts/memories.

wise thought and wisdom you share with others, religious practices/rituals you typically do, philosophical thoughts, pursuit of higher education, your ability to see things from other peoples perspective, languages you learn, how you communicate with your in-laws, ethical thinking, long road/train trips across country, what your social media is like, what you watch on television, how you communicate with your grandparents, and/or what new things you learn.

10h/mc

how you communicate in a career/professional setting setting, your social status, your reputation online / social reputation, your social media fame, long-term health/education goals, social responsibilities, the authority in your voice, and/or where you are gaining expert level knowing.

11h

what you think of your friends, how social you are in a friend group, social media gains, money made from career, social desires for recognition, your communication with step-parents, your communication with step/half siblings, how your thinking is unique, your use of technology, social awareness of other thoughts/ideas, social ideals, political expression via verbal techniques, how well you social network, how you make your debut into the literary/academic world, and/or your willingness to be in the party/social scene.

12h

healing mental health issues, what hidden knowledge you uncover, social karma, your thoughts on old age, how well you sleep / how well rested you feel, social solitude/isolation, the types of dreams you remember, what your hidden enemies are saying about you, your delusional thinking, social/health fears that you have, what you are reading to escape reality, how you withdraw socially, social media privacy, where your knowledge is limited, subconscious thoughts, the type of thinking that causes your self-undoing, and/or passive thinking.

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yourhighness6 · 2 months

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What is your favorite Zutara headcanon?

I hope you have an amazing day! ^.^

I'm so sorry this has been sitting in my inbox forever! I haven't had a chance to answer asks and I kind of forgot about it, so I'm going to give an extra long answer to make up for it lol. I have a few that are tied for first and second, so bear with me.

Firstly, I absolutely love the idea of Zuko helping out Katara with the chores after he joined the gaang. It just makes sense that he would try to help her out, and that he would feel guilty and try to do extra work. Of course, it takes Katara awhile to actually appreciate his help, but after TSR they actually manage to have fun together while they're doing dishes and laundry together, and she can't imagine it any other way.

This one is kind of cheesy, but I love the idea of them both being musically inclined, but in different ways. Zuko is obviously great at the tsungi horn, but he's an absolutely awful singer, and Katara can't play an instrument to save her life, but she has the voice of an angel. They like practicing songs with each other to let off steam, and even after the war whenever Katara finds herself in the Fire Nation or Zuko in the water tribe, they still get together to make a bit of music. They're also both wonderful dancers, Zuko from growing up learning dances in the FN court, and Katara because it's a big part of her culture, and she also just thinks it's fun. Zuko never really liked to dance, because it reminded him of being boxed in at court, but Katara shows him some different steps and he actually enjoys himself for once. In an AU where they end up together, their kids grow up combining the dances of both their cultures and creating new trends in both the FN and the SWT.

This one isn't really Zutara-centric, but Toph teases the HELL out of them. She literally goes around making the snarkiest comments and she will not stop until they are both blushing like tomatoes.

In an AU where they get together, they are the second in the gaang to get married, after Suki and Sokka but before Aang and Teo (I said what I said). Their wedding is obviously a huge event, and Sokka and Aang are the groomsmen while Toph and Suki are the bridesmaids, obviously. Katara is super into wedding planning and picking out her dress. Uncle Iroh helps her with the plans and buys fireworks and organizes the guest list and Zuko rebels against the both of them at every turn because he doesn't really want a huge, ostentatious wedding. He eventually realizes that this is way more important to Katara than it is to him, though, so he stops trying to get them to tone things down and only helps her with the planning when asked, to give her all the creative freedom her heart desires. In canon (where they don't get together) I like to think that Zuko would be Katara's 'man of honor' at her wedding with Aang. Partially because of pining and angst, but mostly because they want to be there for each other and see each other happy, even if they aren't going to be the ones spending their lives together.

Zuko would be the first one to realize his feelings for Katara, but he'd be in denial for so long that by the time Katara realizes her feelings back, they're at about the same place when it comes to their relationship. She's the first one to say "I love you" and even though it takes him a little time to say it back, it's only because he's scared to be so vulnerable with someone at first. She gives him time, and his love confession ends up being simultaneously the most awkward and the most romantic thing in the world. Zuko is the one to propose and Katara says yes without question.

They end up having two kids, twin girls named Kya and Ursa after their mothers. Kya, the nonbender, is set to inherit the throne, and Ursa, the waterbender, has a special gift for healing. Zuko only wanted one kid because he was afraid of messing them up, but he ends up being a wonderful father. Katara is a great mother as well, of course, and she loves to teach Ursa waterbending while Zuko helps her incorporate firebending moves into her fighting style. Kya feels a little left out of these family training sessions at first, but Zuko teaches her how to use the dao swords, her Aunt Mai teaches her how to throw knives, and her Aunt Ty Lee teaches her chi blocking, so she's just as deadly as the rest of her family.

Katara's first project after becoming firelady is to help spearhead pollution reform and create industrial regulations that help the FN become more environmentally friendly. She eventually travels back to the village in "the Painted Lady" with her daughters to show them the value of respecting nature.

This one also isn't very zutara-centric, but I don't think Katara and Azula would ever really reconcile. Although she becomes good friends with both Mai and Ty Lee (who are dating, obviously), she can never forgive Azula for some of the most traumatic events of her life. Zuko and Azula do eventually have a healthy relationship after Azula realizes the error of her ways, but she decides to move away from the palace of her own accord. There are too many bad memories there.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my headcanons! These are the only ones I can think of right now but I probably have more somewhere in my brain.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #zutara #zuko #katara #katara x zuko #zuko x katara #headcanons #zutara headcanon #asks #emmie babbles #emmie answers

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lisalosingstreak · 4 months

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Not good enough for AO3 so thought I’d post it here.

THINGS I HATE

By Wednesday Addams age 5

I will add to this list as I find new things I hate.

I REALLT HATE:

The way colours hurt my eyes and my skin

People who call me weird.

Those horrible boys who killed my dearest Nero

That stupid teacher who called my family horrible names.

Those boring other kids at school who only care about cartoons and stupid toys and don’t like books and sitting quietly.

Those girls who made fun of my new black dress my grandmamma made me.

Those older kids who tried to chase me away from the library.

My new brother. I hate him a lot. He’s stupid.

This new school I have to go to where the kids have different names but who still won’t be my friends and still say horrible things about my family.

That bully who can’t catch me and says my family is weird but my mother and father love each other very much and love me. He’s probably jealous cos he doesn’t have that.

This new school again. The same subjects I already know about, the colours and noise and stupid students who are all thick. They think they are unique but they all just follow the same stupid trends like sheep. I hate the school and I hate them.

Mobile phones. I examined one and they seem to make people even stupider, which I didn’t think was possible but it’s very true. Nothing is better than a letter to communicate or a library in which to learn.

Another new school. Same idiots, different day.

Stupid kids talking about “making out” with each other. Why would anyone want to kiss some other boy? How disgusting. I don’t know how my parents do it.

I really hate bullies and even though I hate my brother I hate the boys who locked him up more.

Nevermore. I hate it. Away from my room where I was comfortable and had my favourite things around me. I can’t believe I have to go to yet another school.

Enid Sinclair. I really hate her, everything a riot of colours and insane chatter. Stupidly decorated room too I have to somehow share.

Tyler and his weak willed personality. Why won’t he leave me alone.

Xavier - what a loser. He has wealth but looks down on the poor and helpless. He doesn’t deserve it.

Bianca. She beat me at fencing. I do not like to be made the look second best. I hate her.

All the outcasts here. Apart from Eugene who has cool interests and isn’t afraid to be himself.

I hate the way Enid smiles at me even when I am mean to her.

The way Enid makes these weird bats in my stomach fly around whenever I see her.

I really hated when she took the red duffel bag and left me all alone so she couldn’t annoy me.

I hate that Enid made me fall in love with her with her oh so perfect smile and her support and saving my life.

I really did not like how soft and warm Enid’s lips were when we first kissed on the long walk in the woods during that first date - which I also hated.

The way Enid surprised me when she asked me to marry her. I do not like surprises but like a stupid lovestruck idiot I still said yes.

The the way our wedding is so over the top and colourful and crazy. I am sure my imbecilic family were overjoyed.

The way Enid makes me feel at night. I like to be cold and uncomfortable but she has forced me to cuddle up to her which makes we warm and relaxed and I don’t get my lovely nightmares now.

The way I cried when our daughter Vega was born.

The way Enid has forced me into wanting only to be a housewife and make sure she is happy everyday.

The way Enid is so good to me even when I try and annoy her. I hate that.

How Enid changed me against my will and made me content with a wife and daughter who mean the world to me. Who does that?

I really hated the way I cried when Enid passed away in my arms after her illness, our aged bodies pressed together and our grey hair entangled together as they were every night since our wedding day. her eyes losing none of that awful sparkle even to the last moment.

And most of all I hated the way I didn’t hate any of it. In fact I loved every moment with her.

#wenclair #wlw love #wlw post #enid sinclair #wednesday x enid #fluff #emma myers #wednesday #wenclair fanart

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shinmelodia · 8 months

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Love & Process: blue (2002)

Hello to everyone reading, and welcome to a highly belated attempt to squeeze some of my thoughts and emotions through some semblance of a creative process and onto a page. Today, I want to introduce this blog by talking about a lovely film, blue (2002), directed by Hiroshi Ando and based on a manga by Kiriko Nananan.

Since I'm still somewhat new at diving into live action film, especially, like, uh, Japanese indie film, its helping to start with the yuri genre. Because like practically any other woman on this site, I quite enjoy lesbians. blue's manga original offers something of an alternative to the yuri norm, though, and the film follows suit. Both are definitely examples of the Japanese filmmaking trend I've heard of called "mumblecore," (or maybe mumble-komi for the manga equivalent) that most people know through the likes of Inio Asano's early work. Like Solanin or Girl on the Shore, blue is shoegazey, quiet, and contemplative, adorned with moments of subtle physical intimacy, layered emotion, and stunningly beautiful compositions of daily life.

My metric for these kinds of slow mood pieces, which I've previously tended to watch at random whenever the mood struck me, is that if my barely-medicated ADHD brain can even finish them, there's clearly something special going on. blue passed with flying colors; yeah, ok, it took two sittings, but I spent all of both enraptured, immersed, and invested in the mono no aware of silent, fragile love and messy asymmetry that formed this movie's emotional palette. blue is about love, of course, but its also about process and expression, both emotional and creative, and how processing things, artistically, verbally, non-verbally--is often required of real, human love.

In being about this, I think it did things for me that a lot of yuri often doesn't and gently hit me in a place that I really needed to be hit. So, let me get into it. This is going to be...very personal, and also obviously spoil the details of the film, if you care about that, although I'm sure there will be plenty of depth left in the text that I leave untouched. Whether you read it or not, I'll be happy I made it. Oh, and sorry if I come off as really New for being so struck by themes and aesthetics that are probably sort of standard for this type of film. I can't help what I feel like writing about, though.

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Kirishima Kayako lives in a small town by the sea, one much like dozens of other anonymous, disaster-prone exurban towns in Japan at the turn of the millennium. She rides the bus to her girls' high school every day, where she eats lunch with her friends and tries her best to learn something in class. Really, though, she's aimless, quiet, lonely, and introspective. She's trying, but its rare for others to be able to tell. She's also in love with her classmate, Endou Masami. When she confesses at the end of the first act, on a windy beach against the vastness of the ocean, Endou responds that she's glad, and the two become our lesbians for the movie. Kayako falls to her knees and cries in relief. Masami is different from the others--she sees how hard Kayako tried. Does that mean she loves her back, though?

Endou Masami has cool passions and interests; she collects American CDs, which she expertly critiques and describes while lending to friends. The mere view of her vibing to her American alt-rock while smoking a cigarette in front of her apartment window is album-cover worthy in itself. Kayako feels the same way: one of the most intimately gay scenes of the pre-confession portion of the film is when Masami lights a cigarette and asks if Kayako is shocked. The quiet girl declares without hesitation, "No, I'm admiring the way you lit the match."

The whole early film is such a delectable, lonely vibe. The slowly intertwining couple's solidifying dynamic is the kind that forms between an emotionally complex introvert and the perhaps even more unknowable yet somehow more confident object of their affection. The two are classmates, (there's no classic yuri kouhais and senpais here) but for the early part of the film we are seeing things from Kayako's perspective and Masami seems unmistakably older in spirit. There's something about the dense emotions conveyed in her gazes at her new girlfriend, the almost world-weary tinge of recklessness in her distant grins. She talks about music Kayako's never heard of and lends out books with Romantic-era paintings that she has well-formed thoughts on. Kayako even openly admits that if she could, she would want to be Masami.

I think we've all loved a girl like that.

It's a pretty typical experience in middle school or high school, for really anyone lonely who loves women, to be drawn to these sorts of sad, beautiful, oh-so-seemingly-complex femmes. I guess straight men have a similar thing going on with the whole Manic Pixie Dream Girl archetype, but for us women (or, women-to-be, at the time, I guess), the phenomenon of these people to us often involves a sort of existential jealousy. I'm not sure what is so alluring to other people about the sense that the object of their love has Something Going On that they are working through, or a vast and complicated life beyond the scope of one's understanding, but it me it always felt like something I was missing out on for myself. Obviously, a lot of their experiences and interests must be interesting and fun and super cool, you think, but even what pain you think they convey must be somehow more edifying than yours.

For me, the edifying aspect was the mere fact of femininity itself. The idea of a girl who has deep and Real emotions, who feels Real love and Real sadness and can actually express that in how she looks, beautiful and imperfect, always threw into stark contrast my own inability to express myself comparably. I was depressed, I was growing up, and I felt things, too, but, as someone who everyone thought was a straight boy and who was too scared to admit to being otherwise, I lacked that sort of beauty, that means of expressing what was inside me through fashion, makeup, book or music knowledge or taste. Or at least I thought I did. Thus, my own emotions must have also meant less. So, I ignored them and belittled them, and entire years passed before I processed a thing correctly. I always wanted to be some other girl. That was the only thing that would fix me.

I assume that the teen (and, uh, sometimes beyond) existential pining experienced by some other people in real life usually lacks the fun bonus that mine had of a screaming void where my femininity should have been, but I'm not sure how much this actually matters to the crux of the kind of experience I'm talking about. That some kind of void is there is all that matters, really, and its there for Kayako in her relationship with Masami at the beginning of the film. She has nothing, Masami is everything, and just being close to her is enough, for now. Just being noticed, just sharing something with her, is all Kayako feels like she can ask for.

Of course, this incomplete way of seeing love can't last, which brings us to the next part of the film, which starts when the two are hanging out and Masami reveals through a guarded, distant grin that she had an abortion a while ago. This isn't something that shocks Kayako or is really meant to shock the audience, and it isn't the big moment where she forced to reconsider her feelings. Rather, she asks how it went, and Masami responds honestly. She mentions she felt horrible the next day and had to be picked up by ambulance from the nurse's office, prompting Kayako to recall silently what to us was the film's first scene, a view from her window during class of an anonymous ambulance, sirens turned off, discreetly rescuing a student.

That she had this ambiguously traumatic, and at least unpleasant and potentially taboo experience is something that could have made Masami feel even older to Kayako, her pain even more distant and obscure. It certainly already is a way that Masami herself feels distant from others. Yet, by considering her own special, observant view of the ambulance back when it happened, it becomes one that Kayako can in some small way assertively share with her. Rather than continuing to put her lover's experiences on a pedestal, Kayako in this scene makes a silent decision to turn a blossoming mutual acceptance simply that they happened into a moment of true intimacy between the two, a sleepover punctuated by smirking kisses and satisfied cuddles initiated by each of them for the other. Despite her remarks that Kayako is weird for unhesitatingly wanting to stay with her, its an intimacy that Masami is happy to accept. This is all an important turning point in Kayako's development because she begins to choose insight, closeness, and assertion over the distant admiration that trapped her earlier.

As we go on, we'll start seeing how blue's gentle impact comes from the way it doesn't glorify or sugarcoat that earlier kind of unhealthy and immature dynamic. Instead it subverts it by giving Masami depth and Kayako agency, before reaching an endpoint that reflects on how the dehumanization of that kind of depressed, pining relationship can be overcome. In that sense, blue is a yuri romance mostly about the couple coming to accept their own and each other's humanity and capacity for expression. Like any good mumble movie, its full of long silences and almost unrealistically hesitant dialog, and doesn't give any explicit internal monologues like a lot of manga do. The world of this movie is one where expression is an uphill battle, something that has to be worked towards and struggled through. It's the world that Kayako and Masami share, in their own separate ways. And that's why its such a triumph to watch Kayako finally find her voice, her passion, and her process, which all starts in this scene.

First, though, it's time to learn about the Something that Masami has Going On.

Things begin when Kayako is still sleeping. Masami gets a call on her house phone that she doesn't answer, but that sends her into a silent spiral of emotional dread. She spends the next day at school in the nurse's office, refusing to tell Kayako what's going on and confiding only in her friend Nakano. Then, when summer break comes along, she disappears, leaving Kayako alone at home, pouring silently over the book of still life oil paintings that Masami lent her.

It ends up being Nakano who tells Kayako why she left. It's the story Masami didn't tell about the source of her abortion: an adult, married man whom she had a relationship with and eventually a pregnancy from. She got things taken care of without telling him, alerted her parents and tried never to see the rotten salaryman again. That is, until he called. He wasn't getting along with his wife anymore, apparently, and she had some sort of attachment to him that made her come running back. Her taste in music originally came from him, after all. It seems that, for the time being, her devotion to this mysterious, abusive man is going to perpetuate a brutal cycle: she'll keep hurting both Kayako and herself all at once.

What really destroys Kayako and her relationship, though, is that she lies about it. When she comes home after some predictably rough interactions with this guy, she tells her supposed girlfriend that she was enjoying a vacation with friends, and even gives her some grapes, supposedly grown in the prefecture she was hanging out in, as a twisted souvenir. The more assertive Kayako enforces her boundaries without hesitation, though, in equally as blunt a tone as she complimented her love, as when she told her she wanted to stay with her, all those nights ago. "Why are you lying to me?" Its with that same grin, now tinged with emotionally oblivious deception, that Masami dares to at first first feign ignorance.

"Eh?" Her smile is shallower than its ever been.

So Kayako walks away.

Their dynamic has now become worse than just immature; it's entirely toxic. From an outside perspective, Kayako is working on her shortcomings, while Masami refuses to reconcile her past. This kind of toxicity, though, is sadly just as common in high school (and even sometimes middle school) as is the kind of misunderstanding, lonely pining I talked about earlier, just usually among different sorts of people. Appropriately, its often even that exact kind of beautiful, hurting, mature femme (in the eyes of disastrous, moody lesbians like Kayako) who is going through that sort of pain. Its that mysterious and tragic byproduct of compulsory heterosexuality that causes a lot of girls to seek validation in the love of an older man, and that I imagine becomes a sort of addiction to that validation that only masquerades as love. Hell, Masami attributes much of what made her seem so interesting on the surface, her love of music, to this guy. She feels like she'd be nothing without him, and the way Kayako praised her, at least in the way she interpreted it, did nothing to dispel this fear. Which I think is really why she decided to go back, even though it would mean betraying the very girl whose love provided her an escape from it all.

Its an ugly truth, and its one that yuri media usually shies away from portraying, but it is explored with refreshing frankness and resolved with astounding maturity by the end of blue. And I think its the source material's status as "alternative" (I guess in Japanese parlance, Garo-inspired) manga, not to mention the movie's simply as an independent film, that allows it to break with genre limitations in this way. There's been tons of writing done on how yuri definitely presents a fantasy of the sapphic experience. Mainstream yuri's origins in Class-S still to this day often cause it to portray romances between women as fundamentally different, and inherently more pure, than those involving men, trapping them in a bubble of unassailable innocence. While that kind of makes sense and seems extremely cool to those of us who celebrate having little interest in moids or whatever, it also has the effect of sugarcoating and sometimes even outright obscuring what real women, even (and sometimes especially) sapphic ones, go through.

There's already a decent amount of yuri, especially among those aimed at older demographics and those where its more of a secondary genre, that do deal with compulsory heterosexuality and the experiences that come with it. What are much rarer are yuri series where one of the lover's flaws more resemble Masami's than Kayako's. Not enough that I've read at least is willing to make its relationships messy, or have one of its leads just do straight up bad things like self-destructive cheating and lying.

Because, really, its the same as what Kayako went through, isn't it? The lonely longing for something more that feels like it can only be cleansed by denying oneself all one has and betting it all on being close to someone else. The only difference between the two's actions is temperament and perhaps socialization--one sought it from a cooler woman, the other from an older man. And somewhere out of sight, that sad, irresponsible, fucked-up adult was probably hopelessly lonely, too, just like Kayako had to accept Masami was. Maybe disaster lesbians, disaster bisexuals(?), and yes, disaster straights aren't so different after all.

Well, other than that Kayako has worked to process her feelings, while Masami went and ruined her relationship over them. That's an important difference. Still, though, even Kayako has some work to do about how she feels about all of this. Masami's pedestal has been smashed, whether she likes it or not, and now she's lonelier than ever. So where does this vampiric cycle of taking from others end? What substance can replace loneliness in this ouroboros of etropic emotional alchemy?

Kayako doesn't touch the grapes. Instead, she silently processes things, lies on the floor listening to the cicadas scream in the garden. The grapes go rotten, and her brother throws them out. She sulks for a while.

Then, she starts painting. A still life of grapes, inspired by the books that Masami lent her. At first, her drawing is lousy, as the school fine arts instructor later tells her, but the colors are gorgeous. The deep purples of the fruits are expertly layered to capture light and tell a story, one deeper than the instructor could possibly imagine. It's the story not only of the transformation of a relationship, but of the growth of one of its participants. As the hot, still air of the coastal Japanese summer cloys around her lonesome final vacation of high school, Kayako finally salvages a passion to call her own out of a floundering relationship. When school starts again and she picks up art classes, going to Tokyo for uni, a dream that was previously held only by Masami, starts to be within her reach. She has a future, an interest, and a way to process all has happened to her.

And then comes the time for Masami to try and return. She proves unwilling to address all that happened before, instead trying to kiss Kayako after school in the art room. Her undeserved attempt at intimacy is rejected with a shove, but so too is her self-pity that causes her to instantly run away. There's more that needs to be said that simply "I'm a terrible person." Kayako pursues her into the town's small shopping district as night begins to fall and neon crackles to life against a cool late summer night. Now the emotional climax of the movie begins.

First, Kayako starts talking. She tells Masami about the painting, about her summer, about how lonely she was without her, about all the places she wanted to go with her. She talks about how happy she was at the same time that she found something she wanted to do without her. This approach is new for her. She's never so far relied on words so heavily to express her emotions. When Masami points this out, Kayako says:

This is how she's choosing to process things for the time being. At first, it was being silent to carefully consider her emotions. Now, its speaking up to keep them focused on what she really wants.

Then, its Masami's turn, for the first time, to tell the truth. By now they're away from the small cluster of lights, staring out at the blackness of the beach where they first got together. Masami broke up with the guy, she says. But she also asserts that she came to his emotional aid to begin with because she felt his need for help was more important than anything else to her. She couldn't tell her girlfriend this before, because doing so would mean telling a truth she didn't think Kayako could bear to hear: that he meant more to Masami than she did.

Kayako already knows this, of course. And by speaking up to quell her justified anger, by weaving words like the deft strokes of honest color on the tip of a paintbrush, she's gotten herself to a point where she can accept it, too.

I mean, think about it. Masami is broke now; Kayako needed to buy her a sandwich so she wouldn't be hungry on their impromptu date. Her sabotaging drive to be validated and her inability to accept love from the girl willing to give it has, by all accounts, ruined her life for the time being and harmed those around her. Even though she broke up with the guy out of necessity, or out of some fleeting impulse to run back to Kayako, she still feels like nothing without him. As she says to Kayako later, now the envy runs in reverse--Kayako is passionate about painting now, while Masami will still amount to nothing. Despite it all, though, Kayako is willing to love her. She's called Masami out on what she needs to be, then decided to stay nonetheless.

"I always come second. You broke up with him, so the number one spot is vacant. When someone else comes, you'll put him there...

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For most of my life, I believed that artistic expression was primarily the product of unrestrained, innate, and self-indulgent passion. I thought it was just something people either have or don't have, and that when they do, its something that can drive them to great heights of accomplishment and happiness otherwise impossible for humans to reach. It was mostly Japanese otaku media that instilled this into me, I think. I grew up exposed to a dizzying array of diverse and often miraculous artistic products that captured my imagination in ways the safe output of my own boring, monolithic home empire never did, and most of them were made by people who literally poured their lives into working on them. From Eiichro Oda's future-destroying, decades-long devotion to making One Piece to Kentaro Miura giving his life to practically paint the ceiling of the Sistene Chapel in pen on page after double-page spread in Berserk, to all of the hyper-passionate, universe-shattering early works of Hideaki Anno and his animator cohorts, I thought that I lived in a world of weird and wonderful treats whose cooks had the work ethic of demigods and the talent to match.

And even on the lower levels of the medium, among fan artists, cosplayers, writers, posters, historians, I felt surrounded by people who lived and breathed impossible passion, whose lives must have been defined by a kind of information processing my brain simply wasn't capable of. They had some ability to inhale the miraculous vapors of an abundant artistic landscape and spew out works of their own that further decorated the texture of a fleeting age of impossible marvels. And all that time, there I was, left on the sidelines, interested in many things but passionate about none, and lacking the motivation to really work to pursue anything at all. It was (and, honestly, still is) a state of existential discomfort similar to that sort of lonely-girl-pining, but doubtlessly far larger in scale. Some people had passion, while I had nothing to show for all my years of being alive. For fuck's sake, there was so much stuff out there, and I barely could muster the motivation to even read any of it most of the time.

After a while, I started to feel like I was simply broken, like I was an empty person that didn't belong in the very world I loved living in. And while I think this might be a niche outlook and insecurity (although one represented, to my profound gratitude, in Masami), I think it's also how a lot of people think about love. Love is often portrayed as a feeling sparked entirely of instinct, one that, when a person truly feels it, will never cause them to make any mistakes or do anything fucked up to those they care about. Something that will drive those bolstered by it to impossible heights, improve lives beyond the sorrow and loneliness to which they are otherwise condemned. But, as Kayako learned and as Masami and I are having to find out, that isn't really the whole story.

Expression is love. Love is process. Therefore, expression is also the labor of putting love through a process, of rigorously trying to get your ass in a seat and put in the steps of putting your feelings into form. As this is required of art, so is it required of relationships. And so the two are a cycle. Creation requires emotions to process; relationships require emotions to be processed. And the love that creation inspires feeds itself into the love for others that inspires the emotion to fuel more creation. A Labor of Love. Again, I know I'm New.

But this is what Kayako has been working up to all movie long, first with her silence, then with some words, then with the labor of painting, the iteration of getting better, then with more words again. She has found a slow cycle that is elevating her above her loneliness, a cycle that Masami helped create, and is welcome within, but that can, if need be, exist without her.

Love, labor, process. Expression, creation, process. Creating, processing, choosing...in the end, to do it all again. To stay with what--and who--you have labored to love. And that is the choice Kayako has made.

I have not yet answered what, after thinking and writing about this movie for days on end, might be the substance that can replace loneliness as fuel for the alchemical cycle of emotional taking and giving. By the end of the lovers' reunion, sitting by the road under the slowly-illuminating blue of a haphazardly-clouded dawn sky, Masami doesn't feel like she has an answer, either. She feels small and hollow, manipulative and weak. She's jealous of the coping strategy her own girlfriend has developed to deal with the effects of her bad behavior. So, in the end, what is she? What is there even left for Kayako to love?

I'll be honest, this feeling is so fucking real I get perilously teary every time I think about it. Because, for as much as I mused about Kayako's feelings resonating with me as a former and sometimes girl-piner, when it comes to my current relationship at age 22, it's Masami in whom I see myself most clearly and brutally. It's hard not to when she is the only representation in romance, let alone in yuri, I have seen so far who is as much of a fucking brat as I am at times. Whose tendency to sabotage her own relationship makes it so asymmetric that what her girlfriend feels appears almost one-sided, but whose love is real all the same. If she lacks process, talent, maturity, mystique, if no one is ever going to be good enough for her, then what at all does she have left?

The answer to all of this is the thing that lies at the core of her being, that makes her who she is. The source of her potential to express herself, the starting point of a process yet to fully begin. It's hard to see, but it's there. Its what makes her Endou Masami. And its what Kirishima Kayako loves the most.

It's color. It's the thing at the core of creation that can't be described with words, that forms the motivation for any process. Its the vivid purple of a painted grape whose intentional creation transcends deception and nurtures discovery. It's the blue of a dawning sky whose light guides two girls in messy, lopsided love back into each other's arms. It's Kirishima Kayako. It's Endou Masami. It's what everyone has, and it's all anyone has.

It's the source of love, its process, and its object.

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Eventually, Kayako has to leave for Tokyo. That's the decision that's best for her, and its a decision that, for the time being, will leave Masami behind in the countryside, hard at work on the process of learning to love herself. At the end of the film, she sends Kayako one final piece of proof of who she is. It's a painting of sorts, recorded on VHS, composed not of oil but of compressed light and sound. Stylistically, as the camera zooms in, it begins to resemble less Renoir and more Rothko: at first, its the beach, then, simply the point of the horizon, the area where the sea and sky meet. Its raw, not quite processed, pure color, vibrant blue, filtered and compressed into chunky, washed-out 800x600.

By way of description, "this is all I can do."

For years, I've struggled to believe that my emotions, hindered by depression and self-sabotage, have any value at all. As someone for whom love, passion, and expression have always felt difficult, even putting my thoughts down on a page, let alone drawing, painting, composing, or directing, has always seemed impossible. Recently, though, I've grown a lot. I've found the beginnings of a process learned to accept its existence. Both this process, and all the loves that go along with it, are often uncomfortable. They are painful and brutal and blissful things into which to pour the labors of communication and the torments of understanding. I've learned to process discomfort for the sake of creation, to create for the sake of love. It sounds cheesy, but again, I can't help what I wanted to write about.

I hope you'll join me as I find more new things and tough feelings I love to process on this account. There's so much more I'd love to say about blue, just for starters. I could talk about my undying appreciation for the work of Mikako Ishikawa, or how the shots in this movie are so gorgeous and evocative that I'd seen many of them before in "Japan in the 00s" vibes compilations.

But, until then, this is all I can do.

#japanese film #japanese cinema #yuri #yuri manga #lgbtq films #teen romance #pining #film analysis #personal essay #blue (2002)#kiriko nananan #mumblecore #long reads

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iwaoiness · 7 months

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Tooru's love life

Oikawa has become a public figure whose name has gone around the world. He has been featured in a multitude of magazines, both sports and fashion. He has appeared on various talk shows and participated in some entertainment programmes. He is the new face of Nike and every week he promotes world-renowned brands on his Instagram account (with almost 9M followers). On TikTok (with more than 6M followers) he usually shows his daily life and joins the funniest and most extravagant trends.

He is charismatic, intelligent, flirtatious and charming, and journalists are dying to get the tiniest tidbit of information about his private life, especially his love life, because Oikawa Tooru, despite everything, has learned very well (too well, in fact) how to dodge questions about his non-professional life, which he wants to keep under lock and key. The only thing that is known for sure is that he is originally from Miyagi and studied at Aoba Johsai, otherwise everything is a mystery (in fact, they tried to interview some of his former classmates, unfortunately running into Mattsun and Makki whose answers were a repertoire of "maybe yes", "maybe no", "I don't know", "who knows", "will this go live?", "Oikawa likes milk bread although he doesn't tolerate lactose, isn't it funny?"

But one day everything explodes.

Oikawa's name becomes a worldwide trending topic for weeks, millions of his fans flood the social networks with screenshots and kilometric threads, gossip magazine journalists go crazy camping outside the luxury flat block where Oikawa lives to corner him and bombard him with questions, his manager (who is torn between asking for a pay rise or an early retirement despite his 30 years old) tries to control and defuse the situation.

And the reason is his new TikTok video, with the black and white filter, where he appears lying face down on his king-size bed, recording his reflection in the room's wide mirror. Behind him, with his head resting on his bare back, is Iwaizumi Hajime, gently and slowly caressing his back, alternating those caresses with small kisses on his skin.

A song plays in the background for the first seven seconds until Tooru speaks and a soft Hajime comes from his lips. Iwaizumi lifts his head and, when he sees Oikawa with his mobile pointed at the mirror, he looks at the reflection of both and smiles (the playful, lopsided smile that turns on Oikawa as fuck) before winking. His hand, always firm and warm against Tooru's skin, slowly descends further down, his fingers tracing over the bare skin until they reach his nike sports shorts, caressing the fabric of the garment before his hand opens and wraps around his ass.

And there the video cuts off and starts again. In the caption, it reads: upss hehe (ノ≧▽° )ノ

Days later, when everything is still on fire, Matsukawa and Hanamaki are (surprisingly) called again to be interviewed by a young intern (judging by his dark circles under his eyes, the dried coffee stain on his pants and the endearing stammering in his questions) for a program about celebrity scandals to be aired later. This time, however, they decide to be more benevolent and Issei and Hiro look directly into the camera, with an aura of mystery and secrecy.

"Well, Tsubaki-kun"

"I-it's Subaru, Matsukawa-san."

"Well, Subaru-kun, you're in luck, we actually came with the intention of bringing a very, very important exclusive."

"R-Really?" Subaru blinks, incredulous as Makki nods energetically.

"It's something that even Oikawa himself isn't aware of, right, Issei?"

"Totally, Hiro. Are you ready, Subaru-kun, ready to know the truth and only the truth?"

Both, Subaru and the silent cameraman, nod their heads, totally expectant of what two of the people closest to Oikawa-senshu may finally reveal.

"Well, here we go, Hiro. Do the honors, you're the best at this."

"You flatter me, honey, it will be my pleasure." Makki clears his throat, cricks his fingers, exhales and inhales deeply, squares his shoulders, settles back on his seat and finally opens his mouth to say "Did you know that Oikawa Tooru is dating Iwaizumi Hajime and, exactly five days ago, Oikawa uploaded a TikTok (very un-family-friendy if you ask me) where he confirms their relationship? It's scandalous, right? I'm sure no one saw that video, but know that it exists."

That same night, during the weekly video call shared by the four former Seijoh members, Tooru's ramen comes out of his nose in a fit of laughter and Iwaizumi is unable to control his when Mattsun and Makki recount how they were banned again for the rest of their lives from (now) eight TV stations and two radio stations.

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dilfscvm · 1 year

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Distracted by Pedro Pascal

Be aware that this One-Shot is not suitable for minor audience, please leave this story if you're below 18+, this fic consists heavy smut, and usage of vulgar language.

The reader is female, and a lot younger than Pedro Pascal.

The picture below is edited by me:>>

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There's a trending app that you've been wanting to try, since you've heard that your husband-Pedro Pascal-were well known in that app, so you became curious on how and why he's viral.

That was a month where you tried and fulfill your curiosity. You downloaded the app and learned how to do it. Since you're not as famous as your husband, of course at first you didn't have much followers. Let's just say, no one yet knows about you, since pedro wants his relationship for himself.

But of course, he does want to show you off, bring you to public dates, and do more in public. The problem is, you're the only one special person he has that was not exposed in publicity. Everything about him were known by a lot of people, specially fans. They know every detail of pedro has, he doesn't have issues with sharing stuffs about him, however you're the only one whom he doesn't share with.

He rather have you all to himself, than get asked uncomfortable questions by reporters, get your personal space invade by paparazzi's, and most of all got physically and emotionally attack by a fan.

He doesn't mind sharing, but he knows how the people of the world will react when they'd know that he's married. Maybe some will be happy for him, or otherwise, some will bash his beautiful and amazing wife, he doesn't want that to happen.

Today you filmed yet another video, which is you lip sync a song by thee one and only Arctic Monkeys 'I wanna be yours' one of your favorites actually.

Let's just say you're a lot younger than your husband, twenty-eight actually, but still 'looking young and fresh' as pedro compliments you. You act like a teenager, while you think mature. Of course you can be a lot.

The thing is, before you posted a video you show it to your husband, to get approval if you could post it. Well he doesn't mind though, he always tell you that. But you want for him to see it, because you know he won't download the app and watch you.

"Cariño, ven aquí." Baby, come here. You heard pedro calls from the living room. You're at the kitchen, getting some snacks because you two will watch 'scandal' together.

"Paciencia, guapo, the popcorn's almost done." Patience, handsome, the popcorn's almost done. You answered, as you place a two cans of soda in a tray along with the chips as you waited for the popcorn to finish.

"Be quick, cariño, I want to cuddle." it almost sounded like a whine, he's rather touchy and cuddly today. Well you can't blame him, it's raining outside and he doesn't have a work. All's looking perfect.

"Okay, okay coming!" you giggle while putting the popcorn in a bowl. You placed it beside the soda and chip. You carried it both to the living room, where your husband's impatiently waiting for you.

"Here you go, baby." you give him the tray of foods, he set it on the table beside him, as he was about to pull you in, you walk off leaving him pouting at you.

"Heeeeyyy! Dije ven aquí." I said come here. he grunts reaching you. You giggle and get your phone before you come back to him.

"You're being so touchy tonight, what's up, baby?" you sat down beside him a'd he didn't waste anymore time to pull you closer to his chest. Making you more curious about him being attention seeker all day. You look at him, and sees his eyes close. He shook his head 'no'.

"Nothin', just wanna spend all of my free time to be close to you." he said, you only smiled at him and let your body relax against his.

This is what you want. What you longed for. Pedro, just staying with you at your home, while you take care of him. Just to have a simple life. But of course, he's an actor who's very famous and sexy. You can't blame him, he's really good at what he's doing.

"Me gusta mucho esta serie, cariño." I really like this series, honey. Pedro broke the silence as you two focused on the TV series you were watching. You hum in agreement, also nodding your head.

"I agree, Me encanta, Kerry Washington, tanto. Es una buena actriz, debo decir." I love, Kerry Washington, so much. She's a good actress I must say. You agreed. You felt him move making you look at him and he's already looking at you.

"Cariño, mi mano está fría. ¿Puedo ponerlo en tu pecho?" Honey, my hand is cold. Can I put it on your chest? he asks so gentlemanly, yet teasingly. You giggle and nodded at him. He circled his right arm around your waist, before he put his hand inside your shirt to cup your bare breast. You let out a rather shaky breath, feeling his cold fingers gently grip your right breast. "Dios mío, tu pecho se siente tan cálido, mi amor." Oh my God, your breast feels so warm, my love. His breath heaved.

"Eyes on the TV, señor" you smiled at him, and he just chuckle, pretending his friend's not stirring awake.

"Okay, hun." he smiled and leaned down to kiss your lips. You hum against it and return your attention back to the TV. But his hand were working on its on, squeezing your breast softly, while he will gradually play with your nipple in between his pointer finger and thumb, rolling it wetween them. You're actually okay with it, for so long that you've been with him, you become used to it. But still, sometimes you will gasp and sigh when he will tug it a little hard.

A few minutes later you heard your phone pings, means you've got a notification. You grab it to look at the notification. It's your tiktok. Pedro averted his eyes to your phone.

"You're quite popular there, baby. The last time I checked you only have like two-thousand plus followers." he said placing a kiss on your head that were well rested on his shoulder. You chuckled at him shaking your head.

"Yeah, I've gained a lot recently and I don't know why I did." you laugh, checking some comments on your recent upload. "Wow, eleven thousand likes, that's.. A lot." you gasp, can't believe at what you're witnessing.

"Well that is because you're a beautiful woman, exquisite, lovely, attractive, sexy woman." he whisper lowly at you. You look at him with raised eyebrows.

"Sé lo que está haciendo, Sr. Pascal." I know what you're doing, Mr. Pascal. You said with a knowing tone. He chuckle at you, brightening the mood with wide smile that you loved so much.

"No estoy haciendo nada, cariño." I'm not doing anything, baby. He giggles making you giggle also.

"You need to behave, yeah?" you whisper at him, his eyes slowly went to your lips, his smile were fading, you can see his eyes getting much darker.

"¿Qué harías si no me comporte, cariño?" What would you do if I wouldn't behave, baby? He whisper, rather lustful. You shook your head and put a finger on his mouth.

"I want to enjoy the show, babe.." you said.

"I want to enjoy you." he squeezed your breast a little harder making you whimper, your hand went to his handful hand that's squeezing your breast and try to take it off. "Don't try." he warned. You sigh in give up and turn your eyes back at the television, not giving him what he wants. And soon he gave up but kept his hand on your breast, still enjoying your warmth.

Soon after, you started another episode and pedro seems to behaved himself while fondling your breast like a child, but you let him do it anyways. Another ping was heard on your phone and you went to check it. Well you just reached twenty thousand likes!

"Babe, would you like if we record a video together? Promise I won't show your face. People won't notice anyways."

"I need thousand bucks for that, cariño." he teasingly said.

"Hm'kay, if that's what you like." you agreed, pedro laughed and shook his head.

"Solo bromeo, mami, solo quiero que tu apretado coño envuelva mi polla." Just joking, mommy, I only want your tight cunt wrap around my dick. Need laced his voice, you almost let out a whimper at his arousing dirty talks.

"Podemos grabarnos mientras estamos en eso, papi." We can record ourselves while on it, daddy. You know to yourself that you're joking, but it seems like pedro is not in the mood for jokes. List engulfed him.

"With pleasure, Conejita." Bunny. and with that, you're now straddling his lap as he push your panties aside and removes himself from his confines, he aligned your cunt with the tip of his cock before sinking you down on it with a erotic grunt. "Tan jodidamente apretada... ugh shit!" So fucking tight. He moans when you clenched around him, the sounds he's generating making it more harder for you to keep your voice down also. Meanwhile, pedro doesn't care about anyone who might hear him. He moans like a slut, and you fucking loved it.

"Dios mio, por favor, papi! Make me cum with that enormous cock." Oh God, please, daddy! you moaned against his ear, he sucks hard on your collarbone, biting on it as he moans aloud.

"Yeah? Y'like that hm? I know you fucking do, bounce! Bounce on my. DICK!" He yells through his gritted teeth, He can't keep his mouth shut.

"Papi, Y-you need to minimise your voice. The n-neighbours..." you tried to reason but he quickly grab on to your waist and help you fuck him relentlessly.

"'Don't fuckin' care, darling. te arruinaré." I will ruin you. Your eyes rolled back through your closed eyelids as you bounce on his cock. Pedro keeps chanting your name like a spell. He even smiles and tell you how lucky he is to have you bounce on him like his personal whore. Everything he says makes you more and more wet.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum!" he moans as he threw his head back, you announced that you're as close as he is, and not even a second you're now below him as he pounds on you, rough.

"Shit, fuck AHHH!" and with another thrust you come on his cock, he keeps thrusting until he pumps his milk inside you. Painting your walls with his semen. "Hmfuck.." you smirk while pinching your nipples, watching pedro breathe heavily as his tired eyes look down at you. He slaps your hands aways from your breast before diving in one of them, sucking and nipping it before moving to the other one.

"Gracias mi encantadora, me haces tan jodidamente feliz" Thank you, my lovely, you make me so fucking happy. He murmurs-almost unbearable to hear-between your breast.

"Gracias también, mi amor, te quiero mucho." Thank you too, my love, I love you so much. You smiled down at him, he looks up at you with that cute smile that always drives you crazy. He then leans upwards to give your lips a loving kiss.

"Open your phone, we're too lost pleasuring ourselves that I forgot my promise to you. Go on, I'll just Bury my big head between this sweet neck of yours and No te preocupes, no voy a mostrar mi cara. Y por favor, no expongas demasiada piel tuya. Esto es solo para mi vista. Understood?" Don't worry, I won't show my face. And please don't expose too much skin of yours. This is for my eye sight only. He naughtily smirked at you, which makes you giggle and shook your head.

After choosing a music, you started recording. It's a lipsync video with the music "Can't Remember To Forget You" by Shakira. Only a little part of it though, starting to the 'I rob and I'll kill to...' sentence. And as he said, he only buried his face at your neck while listening to the audio that was playing. He would randomly place kisses on your neck, grunting softly because of your hold on his hair. Ruffling and combing it with your fingers.

"Thank you, love." you kiss his forehead, he smiles weakly, feeling his exhausted eyes getting much heavier as it tries to close.

"You're always welcome, mi amor. I love you." he whispers against your neck, slowly drifting to sleep. You whispered back at him, telling him to sleep. And before you knew it, both of you were deep in slumber.

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟𝐬𝐜𝐯𝐦

༻◊◈◊༺

#pedro pascal #oneshot #y/n #aesthetic #imagines #wattpad #romance #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel miller #the last of us

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writingquestionsanswered · 3 months

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Epic Novel with Historical Context

Anonymous asked: I'm working on a novel with one of its major themes being historical and transgenerational trauma. I have three main characters in the present day, who are suddenly faced with war. Their fates, natures, and reactions parallel those of their ancestors who lived under WWII, whilst the experiences of their WWII ancestors often mirror the personal, smaller scale backstories and traumas of my main characters. Now, my issue is, I could write this tale in two drastically differing manners. I could cut out the backstories and prolific details of the ancestors, but keep the parallels as the stories of unnamed/unrelated historical figures, making it a shorter, more symbolical tale. Or, I could go the "Victor Hugo direction" and keep everything, including the elaborate family tree of brilliant, vibrant characters that feel too real, and the arcs that go with it. The bigger issue is I don't want to make this into a series or spin-off. I could technically write a whole new book about them, but it would cut them off from their contexts. And I'm afraid if I just mention the characters and give them one or two characteristic scenes, the readers would wonder about the significance of these characters to the main story, which is close to none. Is there a compromise?

[Ask edited for length]

First, thanks for putting the highlights in bold. It did help me comprehend everything. ♥

As for which route you take, it really depends on your situation and intentions with this story. If you're just writing it for yourself and maybe to share with friends, I think you can definitely go the Victor Hugo route and have fun exploring the whole epic story.

If you plan to pursue traditional publishing, you'll have a difficult time finding an agent and/or publisher who are interested in an epic from a debut author. Bigger books are a bigger financial investment, which makes them a bigger risk, and readers are trending toward shorter books anyway. That said, the longer your book, the harder it will be to find a publisher. Right now, the sweet spot for debut authors is around 90k words. Yes, you can certainly go higher than that--and many do--but again, every 10k above that you go, the more you decrease your odds of finding a publisher. No matter what, you would want to try to stay under 150k words or so. Fantasy novels have been known to debut at 200k, but it's really rare and always a case where every single word is absolutely needed.

If you plan to self-publish, you have a little more leeway, but the higher your word count, the higher your base price will need to be. There are also limits on length through various POD publishers. E-books have size limits, but you'd be unlikely to come up against those even with a super epic length book. So... ultimately, if you're okay with self-publishing this book as an e-book only, the sky is the limit in terms of length. That doesn't mean people will buy it, though.

Ultimately, I do think finding a compromise is your best bet, and one way you could do that is by zeroing in on one or a few of the ancestors for the parallel rather than a whole family tree worth of people. If your three characters are closely related--a mom and two children; a grandmother, mother, and child; or three siblings--you could easily focus on just one ancestor belonging to all three of them. If the characters are less closely related or not related at all, you could probably do one ancestor for each of them. And if you want to delve more into the ancestor's stories to explore more of those family trees, you can do a companion novel which isn't a brand new book or a sequel/series, but something in the middle... almost like a spin-off TV show where it takes side characters from one show and gives them their own show.

Happy writing!

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languages-with-ian · 1 year

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Could you talk about Gaelic? How many people are speak it today?

Indeed I can!

SCOTTISH GAELIC

"Gaelic" as a term can refer to any of the Goidelic branch of languages, which includes Irish, Scottish Gaelic, and Manx. HOWEVER, since today (November 30th) is Saint Andrew's Day, Scotland's national day, let's talk about Gàidhlig na h-Alba, or Scottish Gaelic! Latha Naomh Anndra sona dhuibh!

When referring to Scottish Gaelic, we pronounce the word "Gaelic" not as "gey-lick" but as "gal-lick", owing to its native pronunciation (which you can listen to here).

BEFORE THIS POST GETS TOO LONG, I urge the reader to consider learning this language! It's the source of my name after all ("Ian" is a form of "Iain" or "Eòin", both Gaelic forms of "John") and is the heritage language of as many as 40 million people worldwide. Even if you don't claim any Scottish ancestry, it's a beautiful and poetic language tied to an equally beautiful and poetic culture! Use it as a code language with your friends, read some classic Gaelic literature, or even pay a visit to Scotland and smugly read Gaelic road signs off to your friends/family/tour guide! (They'll love it, I promise.) I personally have been learning via Duolingo and other online resources for about 8 months now. And remember, "Is fheàrr Gàidhlig bhriste na Gàidhlig sa chiste" (better broken Gaelic than Gaelic in the coffin).

As of the 2011 Census, the total number of people within Scotland itself that can speak the language is about 57,000 people, or 1.1% of the population [1]. This is indeed a relatively small number, and according to the Endangered Languages Project the language is "Threatened", but the Scottish Government has produced Gaelic Language Plans about every five years since the passage of the Gaelic Language (Scotland) Act 2005. These plans ensure government commitment to the survival and growth of the language, and indeed the decline in speakers has slowed since 2000, and with luck these trends will reverse in the coming years.

In fact, on October 14 of this year, the Scottish Government released an updated language plan outlining the next five years of government initiatives for the language.

But what is this language?

WARNING: INCOMING HISTORY LESSON!

Scottish Gaelic is a Celtic language that was brought to the west coast of Scotland from Ireland by settlers (named "Scoti" by the Romans) sometime between 300 and 500 CE. These settlers soon established the Kingdom of Dál Riata (a name which means "Riata's territory"). This kingdom maintained close ties with Ulster (roughly modern Northern Ireland), and it was during this early period that Christianity began to take hold across Scotland, with such figures as Saint Columba founding monasteries and institutions of learning. What is today Scotland was fractured between four broad people groups at this point - the Gaels in the west, the Picts in the east, the Angles of Northumbria and Berenicia in the southeast, and the Britons of Strathclyde in the south.

With Christianity came the rapid spread of the Gaelic language into lands outside Gaelic control, especially into the Kingdom of the Picts. Eventually, in the 860s-870s, a certain group called the Vikings appeared. (You may have heard of them.) It was at this time that Scotland unified against a common threat, solidifying the bond between the (likely) Brittonic-speaking Picts and the Gaelic-speaking Scots. Over time, Pictish identity was completely lost (leaving behind difficult-to-decipher standing stones scattered across the countryside), and a unified Kingdom of Alba appeared. (Alba means Scotland - and it's not pronounced how you might think.) Between about 1000 and 1200, Gaelic reached its greatest geographic extent, being spoken across Scotland (the islands at this time were ruled by Vikings, which I'll cover in a later post; however, Gaelic was still spoken, at least in the Western Isles). Some people argue that it was never spoken south of Lothian, but place-name evidence from the Borders calls this into question somewhat (name prefixes such as "bal-" and "kil-" are telltale signs of Gaelic settlements).

Malcolm III (of Macbeth fame), also known as Malcolm Canmore ("ceann mòr", or "big head"), married an Anglo-Saxon princess named Margaret, who had no Gaelic. It was at this time, around 1070, that the first signs of a decline in the language began to appear. Margaret brought English-speaking monks to the Lowlands, in effect drawing a cultural border between Lowlands and Highlands.

By the mid-1300s, Scots, a sister language of English (NOT a dialect!), had become the language of the courts and of the parliament. England, in all its ambition, turned its eyes northward, necessitating an independence struggle (or two, or three...), although this resistance was carried out using Scots (then dubbed "Inglis"), not Gaelic (then "Scottis").

By the time the above image was current (c. 1400), Scottish Gaelic had almost completely split away from Irish, though the written languages were (and to a rough extent, still are) rather mutually intelligible.

Over time, Gaelic became further and further marginalized by Scots. Various government initiatives worked expressly against the language, incentivizing or otherwise encouraging Highlanders to speak the "educated tongue" of the Lowlands. In Scots, Gaelic was called "Erse" (roughly, "Irish"), in a popular effort to "de-Scottify" the language. James VI (and I)'s reign marked a significant downturn in the language's usage. The language was seen as backwards, rebellious, and Catholic (a big no-no in an officially Protestant nation). The language was looked down upon in schools (not to mention broader society) from the 1600s up through the early 1900s, and English became the language of upward mobility for Highlanders and Islanders.

Fuadaichean nan Gàidheal, the Highland Clearances, were a result of the failed Jacobite rebellions throughout the 1700s and the imposition of new systems of land management and ownership. Many Highland families emigrated to the far corners of the British Empire, particularly Canada, the United States, Australia, and New Zealand. Highland culture, for all intents and purposes defunct back home in Scotland, survived in these places into the modern era.

In Canada, Gaelic found much success, especially initially. At one point, Gaelic was the third-most commonly spoken language in Canada, though usage declined markedly between the 1800s and more recent revival efforts in the late 20th century. According to the 2011 Canadian Census, 7,195 people claim "Gaelic languages" as the language they use at home (though this term also includes Irish, Welsh, and Breton, the latter two of which are not Gaelic, but Brythonic). Scottish Gaelic is taught in schools (on an opt-in basis) from primary to university level in Nova Scotia, a province whose name means "New Scotland" in Latin. In Nova Scotia, especially on Cape Breton Island, Highland culture is still very much alive.

What goes on within Gaelic?

Gaelic and its other Celtic cousins are quite unique in the European context, as they place the verb first within sentence structure. It's also quite interesting as its nouns can still inflect for the dual number (at least vestigially), a feature lost in a great many other Indo-European languages (oh, did I mention it's an Indo-European language?). If you've ever seen any written Irish or Scottish Gaelic, you may have noticed they like to put "h" after the first letter of a lot of words. This is a linguistic phenomenon known as mutation, and in this case more specifically as lenition. It changes the pronunciation of the first consonant of the word. This phenomenon has been present in the language since the days of Old Irish (and perhaps even further back into the days of Proto-Celtic).

In terms of spelling and pronunciation, it's astonishingly regular... once you figure out all the rules. There are 11-ish vowel sounds (depending on dialect), and 30 (or so) consonant sounds, a step down from Old Irish's 46 distinct consonants.

To conclude:

If you're committed to learning the language, I would recommend finding fellow learners or even native speakers online, and if you're really, REALLY committed to learning the language, I would doubly recommend making the effort to find a tutor in-person or over Zoom or another video calling service if it's within your means (although this advice goes without saying for learning any language). An institution known as Sabhal Mòr Ostaig, based in the Isle of Skye in the Western Isles of Scotland, must be mentioned in any discussion about learning Gaelic, however. According to their website, they are the "only centre of Higher and Further Education in the world that provides its learning programmes entirely through the medium of Gaelic in an immersed, language-rich environment." (This post is not sponsored.) If you have the time, the money, and the willpower, perhaps give them a look! They work closely with projects such as Tobar an Dualchais and Soillse to preserve, maintain, and revitalize Gaelic language and culture for future generations.

Follow for more linguistics and share this post! If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

#scotland #scottish #gaelic #irish language #scottish gaelic #indo european #linguistics #language #history #culture #celtic #celts #vikings

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absolutebl · 11 months

Text

BL & Critical Analysis

Pop culture critique & a how to do it... or something

This meaty question came from the lovely @huachengeye Thank you!

Codicil: I do not get paid for pop culture critique (although I once wrote book reviews professionally, long story). So I’m entirely a dilettante.

The Question!

Q1: Can you can shed some light on your process (of critical analysis)

This is a little like training your eye to edit a document (I bet you can tell that's not one my strong points). Or training your mind to look at data and data collection in terms of the results it may yield and what the initial survey says about the questioner's bias (or can bias results).

First, I have to ask...

Do you really want to train your eye to critique?

Because it will become a lot harder to immerse yourself in a piece of media if you constantly feel obligated to step back mentally and think about it from various perspectives.

In other words, you may enjoy BL, or all live action dramas, LESS if you try to think about them critically.

I have an intimate who is a pretty well known writer. She mostly writes humorous fiction. She's open about the fact that this means every time she laughs, she stops and thinks about why that happened and whether is could be used in her prose. She never gets to be fully absorbed by narrative ever anymore because her critical eye is always turned on, especially for the written word.

What you may sacrifice for critique, is a certain level of childish wonder.

I’m not sure i would necessarily advise doing this.

My Process

My process is essentially now visible in this blog. As I watch a show I take a few notes on it (which show up in the weeklies) and then at the end I go through those notes, consolidate, try to be witty about it, and write up a review.

The review usually has something about:

characters, tropes, plot

narrative & story structure & pace

how this BL fits in with the greater BL genre & history

any thoughts I have on the quality of the production, acting, and/or directing

my own personal feelings about the show

Thus my reviews tend to take into account several criteria.

For #1-2 I have a background in lit crit as an undergrad (and, like I said, I did once review books for a living) so these are kinda ingrained in me. I’m working on seeing the influence of soap operas, fan fic, and non-western story structures as critically valid, so these are the things I’m actively learning more about the most these days.

For #3: How does this fit into the history of BL? Since I’ve made it point to watch pretty much all BLs, I feel like I’m set up to think and talk about this. AKA the spreadsheet made me do it. But since I also have anthropology in my academic history, I’m very interested in how a BL represents for its country’s BL oeuvre. I try to judge KBLs against other KBLs (and Kdramas) and look for patterns and trends in how that country’s interpretation of what it “means to be BL” shift over time.

For #4: my IRL job is tangential to the entertainment industry so that’s accidentally trained my eye for film. I don’t know that I like this part about myself, but it’s happened whether I like it or not. And I don’t have a proper background in film critique.

Final #5: will discuss further in a bit.

Suggestion? Establish A Rating System

Come up with your own personal 10 star (or 5 star) rating system.

Write it down. Don’t be afraid to modify or adjust it. It’s yours, your tastes change, nothing is set in stone.

Pick one ideal example BL for each category that you’re very familiar with for your reference point. Then you can ask yourself, after you’ve watched a new one, whether you liked it more, less, or about the same as that show. (relative rating, similar to grading on a curve)

I change my examples regularly as my taste changes and as new BLs are added. The bar gets shifted, so to speak.

My Rating System

Your reasoning for rating a BL will be different from mine, but here’s mine as an example.

(Also I never feel bound by this, sometimes I give a show a 8/10 just because it feels like that’s what it deserves.)

10/10 - HIGHLY RECOMMENDED - my favorite precious squee!, faithful to tropes, happy ending, good chemistry, few flaws, high rewatch potential, makes me happy, examples: Semantic Error, Until We Meet Again

9/10 ABSOLUTELY RECOMMENDED - loved it and good rewatch potential but probably a few pacing issues or one big flaw, still made me feel good/comforted, examples: Cherry Magic, Bad Buddy

8/10 - RECOMMENDED - some concerns around tropes (like dub con) or story structure/filming but still satisfies as BL, moved me emotionally, rewatchable in parts or not rewatchable but important, examples: Love By Chance, Between Us

7/10 - RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS - i.e. isn’t quite BL, convoluted, not strictly HEA, too short/long, and/or chemistry issues, may have impact on other BL fans but not me (or on me but not others) examples: Make it Right, KinnPorsche

6/10 - WORTH WATCHING BUT FLAWED - probably around the ending or in narrative structure/cohesion or censorship, disappointed expectations, unlikely to rewatch, examples: My Gear and Your Gown, Love Mechanics

5/10 - WATCH IF YOU HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO - but don’t expect much, it’s a total hot mess interesting only because it's BL and I'm probubly pretty conflicted about it, examples: Advance Bravely, Even Sun

4/10 - FATALLY FLAWED - but still basically BL, however... do we want to support this kind of behaviour? examples: Precise Shot, Work from Heart

3/10 - I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM WATCHING AND NEITHER DOES IT, just seriously why did this get made? examples: Blue of Winter, Physical Therapy

2/10 - IT'S DEPRESSING - they killed/tortured/etc the gay, save yourself, examples: The Effect, HIStory 3: Make Our Days Count

1/10 - IT'S AWFUL, I WATCHED IT SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO, has all the flaws of 4-3 plus something even more egregious, personally triggering, example: My Bromance series, Round Trip to Love

dnf - self explanatory, but usually I drop because I feel like the narrative is already a #3 and/or headed for a #2 or #1 and then I’m told later that is went there, example: My Tempo

I hand out the fewest 1s & 10s. The most 8s and 7s. Everything else is pretty much on the bell curve you’d expect.

Q2: What resources do you use to build your reviews?

I listen to a lot of pop culture review critiques in podcast form, often about stuff I'd never watch. But I like the way professionals talk about these things, even if they aren't MY things or don't jive with my personal opinions.

Mark Kermode is my favorite film critic and we like the opposite stuff, but the way he talks about film is very interesting to me. His podcast mini series on the "business of film" is probably one of my must listens. For his main podcast (Kermode & May’s Take), I always skip over all the interviews, people talking about their own films bore me to death (especially if they are actors on the promo junket, save me please). His rants are some of my favorites of all time (try Pirates 3 or Iron Man 2). Someone else’s list.

I also like Pop Culture Happy Hour from NPR because it brings in multiple perspectives and varied cast of critics who often disagree and the "things making me happy" is a grab bag of fun.

The Bechdel Cast is a feminist critique podcast from Hollywood insiders and they do recaps as well as critique, and it's always fascinating to me to hear what people latch onto in a narrative. However, I only listen if I am already familiar with the film they are discussing.

My background is in anthropology and I've lived all over the world so that helps train me to think in terms on culture's impact on narrative as well as linguistics and so forth. As a personality I’m also quite reserved and deadpan, grumpy, stiff, strict, and kinda cold. I think I gravitate to being an observer and an outsider which helps if you want to analysis stuff. Which is not a claim to objectivity, I don't think there can be objective analysis of pop culture.

But it does make me pause to think, "that made me FEEEL something" why? What am I feeling? How did the actor do that? The script? The direction?

These shows are meant to entertain, whether they are successful or not, for me (and what "successful entertainment" means to me) and how they are doing it is the first question I always ask myself.

Q3: What are the things you look out for when watching a BL?

I ask myself a lot of things I would when looking at any piece of art. Or even when shopping for clothing or a new car or reading a book.

Did I like it? Why did I like it?

Did it move me? Why did it move me?

Did I react? How did I react? To which bits? Why?

What tropes and narrative beats was it using to manipulate me and my expectations? Did it meet those expectations? The promises it set up at the start? Did it fulfill the watcher-contract during the course of the narrative?

Did the filming successfully telegraphy the journey I was meant to take? Did the actors?

But also... would I rewatch it? Am I tempted to do so the moment it ends? For which bits?

The statistician in me wants to point out that these questions say a lot more about me and my relationship to art than it does about the art itself.

For example

Did I like it? Means... I'm motivated by pure taste and personal preference and complete subjectivity. This is in part formed by a person's background, life state, whole experience with culture and pop culture and society, family, friends. Taste is also just "that" bit. You know, that bit? Likes lemon deserts over chocolate ones, gravities to spicy food, favorite color is green, decorates with potted plants. Just my taste is my taste. I like what I like.

Yes I have some criteria that subconsciously come into play: I look for clever story structure, subversion or manipulation of tropes, parody, not hitting any of my dislikes (like dub con). But also I have other biases impacting whether I like it (like physical appearance) which I can try to check but usually can't fix. (For example GMMTV's Gawin/Fluke looks so much like an ex of mine I really struggle with his screen presence.)

Did I like it?

The fact that this is the first question I ask myself also should tell you I'm motivated by the emotion these narratives engender. I want them to transport me and move me. I my case I want to feel comforted and satisfied and happy. The ones the make me feel discomfort, especially for too long in the narrative, I am simply going to like less. Sometimes less than I feel like I should (see my struggles with masterworks like ITSAY, YNEH, or The 8th Sense). The very BLs that most professional critics would tout as the best examples of the genre for a wider audience often turn out to be the ones I struggle with the most. (They are also, fortunately for me, the least representative of the bulk of the genre.)

In other words there is ALSO a part of me that genuinely likes and enjoys the trashy stuff. Even the trash I trash watch.

So I would advise you to come up with your own questions. Ask yourself what you want from these shows when you watch them.

What motivates you?

Why are you watching them at all?

What brings you joy from an art or entertainment experience?

What do you want them to do for you? To you?

You are going to experience them (and therefore analyze them) from this perspective whether you like it or not. So understand yourself is paramount. It's about your relationship to the art, not the art itself.

If I were to give you an assignment I would say start with one BL you really enjoyed, perhaps not your favorite but one level down. And then do one you really did not enjoy. And think about why...

Happy analyzing!

(source)

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sammywolfgirl · 9 months

Text

Actually no let’s dissect this new layout as someone who has used Twitter for a bit @staff listen up @wip @changes

I used Twitter for about a year because a lot of my mutuals at the time did, and you know what?

I hated the layout.

I didn’t like how I had to keep tabs on my friends because the algorithm would show me shitty stuff I wouldn’t want to see and was so hard to curate a feed

I’m fairly certain I ended up blocking a lot of people because they kept liking pictures of boobs and I didn’t want to see that shit and Twitter never let you turn that off

I ended up blocking people who kept getting recommended because their art made me sick and I didn’t want to see untagged nsfw on my feed

And the side bar sucked, it took me a while to figure out how to post in the first place

And don’t get me started about having a trending tab always right there and how it would set off my anxiety because every day it was just “here’s a new thing to make you want to jump off a cliff!”

Twitter and the way it works is designed to get hate clicks and engage on outrage, is that the method you want to follow?

Especially for a website who’s users are very loudly against that and also like privacy and will literally use outside resources to fix the ‘improvements’ you made because you didn’t think a toggle feature was worth it

Also putting the stuff on the left or right does not draw the eye, why? Because that’s where your hands are. Blocking the features you want to engage with. My eye is drawn up so putting your stuff there works best! It gets attention. Not to the right where my big ass hand is blocking the post button. (This is also why you should put the mobile post bubble back in the bar where it belongs but that’s a topic for another day)

I understand tumblr is in debt hell, but users have stated many times that if you just ask for donations like ao3 they’d be happy to donate

Hell, crab day was thrown around to be just like that.

Listen to your users or they will all leave for the websites you’re poorly emulating.

Tumblr is surviving because it offers an experience NO OTHER WEBSITE DOES

Taking that away just means tumblr is not unique, and users would rather try their luck with a website that’s doing this better.

Like Twitter, or tic tok, or Instagram.

Lean into your uniqueness and just ask for donations like an adult, just a little add that shows up in the add rotation that’s like “like what you see? Why not throw a dollar in the tip jar?” Like frame it like giving money to an artist so they can keep doing what you love, it’ll be charming!

Tumblr will not find success or even break even if you try and appeal to newcomers, every new social media is confusing to newbies, but you know what they do? They learn, and they adapt. And changing everything is going to make you loose legacy users who again, would LOVE TO DONATE MONEY TO KEEP THIS HELLSIGHT STANDING AS IS.

Or do you just not care about the users? The users who have the money you need.

I don’t want to watch tumblr die a slow and painful death like Twitter is.

And you know there’s something oddly poetic about tumblr, the quirky kid, tearing itself apart just to fit in with the popular kids which won’t work out and only lead to hollow friendships that can turn on a dime when you could have found meaningful relationships with the other weirdos who like your quirks and flaws and would have been ride or die for you.

But no we gotta be like Twitter so let’s chop off our arms and legs becsuse that’s what they’re doing

Tkdr listen to your users and open an donations sight so you can keep being tumblr and get money for it okay? Okay. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk

#tumblr ui #tumblr update #tumblr #tumblr staff #it me #long post #I’ve been here since middle school don’t make me leave please

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band--psycho · 1 year

Text

Young!Remus Lupin x Reader-Monster Lines

So.....I'm back (sorry it took a little longer than planned!)

Huge thank you to @xacatalepsyx , I couldn't have done this without you my friend! 💛

This is another story based off another trending sound that has been on my TikTok a lot!

I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

It was late, and yet, I’d never felt more awake. It was the night after the full moon, and though I hadn’t expected to see all four of the marauders, my heart sank nonetheless.

I’d only recently learned of Remus’s secret, and it hadn’t made one ounce of difference to me.

But I also knew that this meant a lot to Remus, and I would never want him to think I didn’t take his feelings into consideration.

I could see how heavily this weighed on him.

Though upon learning about his secret, a lot of my questions about the quieter marauder had found their answers; like, why he was always so agitated a week before the full moon, and so tired the week after. Why he always disappeared, only to reappear with new scars and injuries, why he always seemed to be so hyper aware of everything; sight, smell, hearing…

Looking back, I kicked myself for being so stupid, I considered the idea, sure, but the thought was gone as quick as it had come.

He was just… Remus.

The quietest out of the Marauders; but no less brilliant.

He was the man who usually always had his nose in a book; who’s soft brown eyes lit up when he was explaining the plot of the latest tale he’d read. The man who without doubt gave the best hugs in Hogwarts.

And the man who never failed to make me smile, no matter how awful my day had been.

It was his business, his secret , and no matter how curious I might’ve been about him and his life. I had never wanted to pry or interfere.

I’d alway admired him from afar, but when I grew closer to him through the marauders and Lily, my feelings for him had only grown.

I think he felt the same way about me. We had certainly grown so much closer over the past year, and Lily was always pointing out little observations and actions I’d also noticed, so perhaps… Maybe he felt the same way.

He was alway interested in what I was reading or doing, was always there to help me when I needed it, and as of late wasn’t shy of showing me his affection.

He’d alway carry my books, or chase of the boys when their antics were getting too much, he was alway just… him.

Remus John Lupin.

I could feel the butterflies erupt in my stomach at the thought of the way he had gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind me a few weeks ago; it was such a simple and sweet gesture.

Only a few days ago were the two of us downstairs in the common room, in the early hours of the morning. One hand held the book he was reading to me, whilst the other was resting on my side as I laid against him.

After a few hours of reading we just sat together, under a huge Gryffindor blanket wrapped around us both, in a comfortable silence, watching as the fire in front of us flickered.

Had it not been for the fact we heard footsteps coming down the stairs from the dorms; which we later found out was not only Lily but James too, we probably would have stayed there until daylight broke. Just snuggled under that blanket.

He was kind and considerate, yet mischievous and cheeky enough in his own right to keep me on my toes. He wasn’t afraid to be honest with me, and never judged or mocked me for anything.

He was perfect, flaws and all in every way.

But I had always sensed he was hiding something.

There was alway one point of every month where he seemed to close himself off from me.

Even a few days ago; in the common room; when I looked into his gorgeous eyes you could see a flicker of fear, of hesitation. As though his mind was arguing with his heart. I wanted to ask him about it, I wanted to know what thoughts were filling his mind, but before I could he just smiled at me. A soft smile that made my heart race faster than normal, before his eyes made their way back to the book and he continued reading.

Now, I knew why…

He was in the Hospital wing; the other marauders had told me this morning before they reluctantly went back to their dorms to get some sleep. They looked exhausted; and from what Lily had told me this had been one of the rougher nights.

That’s when I decided that I was going to see him.

I didn’t know if he wanted to see anyone, least of all me. He was so angry when he found out that I knew about his secret, but I needed to see him, to make sure he was okay, or ask okay as he could be, no matter how mad he was.

~~~~~

Remus could only blink at me,as I stood at the entrance of the Hospital Wing. Confusion flooded into his eyes, before his brows furrowed as though trying to figure out if I was really there or if he was imagining things.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” His tone was hushed, and still groggy from sleep.

I winced at the thought that I’d disturbed him from his sleep, maybe now wasn’t the time; he needed rest and I knew that. The last thing I wanted to do was disturb him or make him uncomfortable. I contemplated making a quick apology and walking back out the way I came in,so that he could rest, but now that I’d seen him, I just wanted to stay with him.

I scraped my mind for words, trying to figure out what to say, though I truly didn’t know what to say at the moment, the only thing that I could put together was a single sentence.

“I just, I just wanted to check up on you,” My voice was weak, and I kicked myself for that, however Remus didn’t seem to notice.

“I see, of course you’d be worried about me. I should be the one checking up on you.”

A small sigh of relief left my lips at the realisation as his words registered in my mind.

“Remus-” I began softly, making my way over to the side of his bed.

Gently he placed his hand on top of mine; his thumb lightly stroking the back of my hand.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he breathed; as his eyes met mine.

“You don’t have to-“

“I do,” he countered, “I was an absolute dick to you yesterday.”

Yesterday was one of the only times I had seen Remus angry.

Not that his anger was really directed at me; but more at Sirius and James who had been discussing Remus and I.

~~~~~~

“Honestly, I just wish he would ask Y/n out,” Sirius vented, the frustration clear in his voice as he paced backwards and forwards through the practically empty common room.

He knew Remus liked Y/n, he knew Y/n liked Remus; it was clear to everyone, and all Sirius (and the rest of the marauders, plus Lily and Marlene) wanted was to see them happy together.

“You know why he won’t,” James sighed; leaning back on the sofa, his eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“He’s not a monster,” Sirius stated; though his tone was a lot harsher than he meant for it to be, he knew James did not think Remus was a monster. But both of them knew that that’s how Remus viewed himself.

“To some people he is,” Peter mumbled, his eyes momentarily glancing up at Sirius before Sirius shot him a death glare, silencing him very quickly and making a wave of regret wash over Peter at what he said.

But again, even though Sirius hated to admit it, Peter was right. People did view Werewolves as monsters; that’s why Remus was so secretive about it and that’s why Remus viewed himself as nothing more than a monster. He also knew that that was why he wouldn’t tell Y/n, because he was terrified that she would view him as what he thought he was, a monster.

But Y/n wouldn’t think that. Not only was she one of the least judgemental people in the school, she also adored Remus and there was no doubt in Sirius mind that that would ever change. He knew that the love Y/n had for Remus would never change.

That’s why he was so frustrated with his best friend.

“Y/n loves him; I know him being a Werewolf wouldn’t change those feelings,”

“Umm Padfoot?” Peter attempted to interrupt the middle of Sirius’ vent, but to no avail.

“What Wormtail? Do you seriously think the fact that he’s a Werewolf would change any of the feelings she has for him?” Sirius snapped, glaring at him, before Peter pointed towards the steps that led up to the dorm rooms.

And standing there was Y/n.

Sirius’ face went pale; how long had she been there? How much had she heard? The thoughts raced around in Sirius’ head until he saw a look in her eyes that answered his questions.

She knew.

“Remus is a-”

She halted her words, unable to finish her sentence as the very man she was talking about walked through the door.

“Remus is a what?” He asked, his voice low and his eyes full of pain and anger.

Y/n had not been the only one to overhear his friend's conversation.

“Say it Y/n,” he spat harshly.

“You’re a Werewolf…” she stated, keeping her eyes fixed on his, “Remus-”

“Don’t,” Remus warned, “Just get out Y/n,”

“Moony-” Sirius started, attempting to calm his friend down but to no avail. Sirius didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Remus had pushed him against the nearest wall.

Y/n had never seen Remus violent. Ever. Especially not physically.

“Remus-” Y/n began; only earning another glare from Remus.

“Out, now,” he snarled, before turning his attention back to Sirius.

Y/n didn’t really get much say in the matter; she couldn’t say anything before James had picked her up and carried her out of the room; simply telling her to go and find Lily.

~~~~~~

I wanted to make him see, to understand that I was aware of his situation, and yet I still wanted to pursue something with him.

“Remus; you don’t have to worry about it,” I assured him.

“I am a monster you know,”

“Who told you that?”

“Look at me,” was simply his answer as he motioned his hands at himself in disgust and the sight breaks your heart. He says nothing after that, closing in on himself again, and I took this opportunity to truly close the distance between us.

I took a seat on the bed next to him, turning to face him. Then,I turned that had been placed on top of mine, over, so that his palm was facing up towards him.

“Why?” His eyes narrow, studying you for an answer, though you don’t give him one, merely insist gently.

“Just let me see it.”

Even though the butterflies in my stomach were fluttering away like there was no tomorrow, I had to ignore them. Right now, I needed to focus.

I narrowed my eyes as I dropped my gaze towards his palm, intently studying the lines upon his skin.

“Hmm…” reaching out a finger to one just below his index finger, gently tracing the length of it towards the other side of his hand, “a long life line.”

I felt his body shiver slightly at the sensation, before I continued my observations; my attention immediately grabbed by the line just below.

“Oh and this one, means you’re shy.” I glanced up at him with a small grin and he in tune huffs a laugh at my antics, though I did notice a slight redness to his cheeks.

“Hmm… hm, hm, hm… well that’s funny…” Y/n softly continued; moving his hand just a little closer as her eyes narrowed.

“What?” The tone that laced his voice was evidence enough of his panic.

“I don’t see any…”

“Any what?”

“Monster lines,” I answered, the smile on my face growing, “Not a single one and the lines don’t lie.”

I gently raised my other hand to his face; making sure to be careful of the small cuts that were scattered over his soft skin, before starting to rub his cheek soothingly, “I love you, Rem and I promise you that you are no more a monster than I am.”

“But-”

This time it was my turn to interrupt Remus’ words, but I didn't do it with my own words; no, I did it by placing my lips on his before Remus could utter another word.

“You are not a monster,” I mumbled against his lips, “And I will remind you of that every single day.”

“Y/n,” he whispered; the softness in his voice made every single butterfly in my stomach erupt before he pulled me back down for another kiss, before saying the words I’d longed to hear from his lips, “I love you too.”

Tagging:

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