#so much cat hair to still tidy up

[quietly-sleeping]

When he first started doing Liu Qingge's hair he didn't expect the other man to be so sensitive. Shen Yuan had carefully pulled out the dripping hair pins, the now stained ribbon, and a guan the man usually refused to wear. He thought at first the shivering was due to the sticky sap that still coated most of Liu Qingge's robes, of which he really needed to get out of.

But it continued after Liu Qingge's bath. His shoulders would tense, flinching slightly as Shen Yuan began to drag the comb through his hair. But as it continued, the shivers would return, his shoulders would drop and he began to sway slightly. Shen Yuan knew he shouldn't mess with his shidi like this, but he couldn't help himself sometimes.

It was fascinating to watch Liu Qingge begin to melt as Shen Yuan worked the hair oil in. As he carefully braided his shidi's hair and pulled him towards his awfully Spartan bed, Shen Yuan wondered when he would be able to do this again.

The answer was: less than a week. The Mud Slinging Toad followed through with its name, leaving Shen Yuan, Liu Qingge, and a less than pleased Mu Qingfang covered.

Mu Qingfang left them quickly, citing a lecture he needed to prepare for while Shen Yuan herded his uncooperative shidi towards the Beast Peak. Shen Yuan was delighted to discover that it took less time to make Liu Qingge melt this time around. The man blinking like a content cat while Shen Yuan worked clumps of mud out of his long hair.

His shidi's sudden infliction of loose limbs lasted until Shen Yuan was clean as well. The other Peak Lord gathering his senses enough to stumble over to the bed and promptly pass out. Which Shen Yuan wouldn't have minded, however, Liu Qingge had laid across most of the bed. Leaving Shen Yuan with the choice of either waking his shidi, not going to happen, or adjusting the man enough for Shen Yuan to fit as well.

Shen Yuan certainly wasn't going to be sleeping else where. He liked his bed far too much for that.

That decision caused an unfortunate amount of activity that morning. With his very pretty shidi, clad in his inner robes and flushed down his neck, storming out of Shen Yuan's modest house with Shen Yuan's outerrobe in hand. If he were more awake Shen Yuan was certain he would have called out for his shidi and taken his outerrobe back. However, he was tired, and his bed was so warm, and it smelled sweet like the soap he'd given his shidi to use last night.

He'd simply get his robe back later, Shen Yuan assured himself, he'd have to return Liu Qingge's anyway.

It was nearly two weeks until Shen Yuan got to put his hands on Liu Qingge's hair again. This time they weren't covered in suspicious substances, and Shen Yuan had taken the chance to return Liu Qingge's outerrobe. Despite his shidi attempting to run out the door again, as he had most of the last two weeks, Shen Yuan had managed to coax the man into a cup of tea.

Shen Yuan had found himself staring at a strand of his shidi's hair for most of their talk, it had escaped the braid that lead most of Liu Qingge's hair back to his ponytail. In fact, his shidi's hair seemed softer today, and Shen Yuan could feel his hand twitching slightly. It was a little amusing to watch the tint of red blossom down Liu Qingge's neck when Shen Yuan asked if he could tidy his hair.

However, it was so much more, in multiple ways to have Liu Qingge loose limbed and blinking slowly while resting his head on Shen Yuan's lap. He wasn't entirely sure how they ended up this way, but he certainly wasn't opposed to it. He followed the curve of Liu Qingge's cheek as it pressed against his leg, tracing a line with his eyes down his relaxed shidi's back.

It was a lovely line, and for a moment Shen Yuan longed for the skill to paint or draw the human form. How pretty a painting it would be, his stiff and tense shidi, pliant and soft, permanently recorded for Shen Yuan to study.

He had long finished combing his shidi's hair, simply stroking down his back and shoulders, the man burrowing closer to Shen Yuan the longer it lasted. It left his pretty shidi so relaxed that only Shen Yuan jumped when the door to his home snapped open.

Fighting the heat in his own cheeks now, Shen Yuan tried to smile at his shixiong in a manner that told him I have an explanation for this. Shen Yuan wasn't sure he succeeded when Shen Qingqiu smiled back at him.

"Well," The smile, paired with sharp brown eyes made a shiver of something Shen Yuan assumed to be fear run down his spine. "This is certainly a sight."

[blueeyedgirll]

Sneaking In - Sal Fisher x F!Reader

a/n: this is something i literally think about constantly :)> sneaking out was sal’s idea not yours there’s no delinquency here. unfortunately this is NOT part two of he’d loooove that because to be transparent i don’t know where to go with it! i promise i started it though it’ll come out soon •3•

this fic includes: boyfriend sneaking in trope, rebellion, sal ITCHING to see you, no use of y/n, for some reason you don’t have a screen on your window but whatever, established relationship, smooching, cuddling

The dark, late night sprawls outside as the twinkle of fairy lights keeps you awake. The chatter from the movie you were watching keeps your ears occupied as you consider texting or calling someone to ease the boredom overtaking you.

You settle on your boyfriend, Sal.

You and Sal had been dating for almost a year and a half. You started dating in the beginning of freshman year, and are still together now, halfway through sophomore year. Dating Sal had been nothing short of wonderful. He has always been such a kind and loving person, and it shows in your relationship. You and Sal are the kind of couple that people call “goals,” or talk about because they “need a relationship like that.”

You pick up your phone to text Sal, but upon reaching his contact, you decide to call him instead.

The line rings once, twice, and then he picks up.

“Hey, love. Are you alright? Why are you calling so late?” He says as less of a question for his sake and more to make sure you were okay.

“Yeah, I just missed you,” You respond.

“Well, I miss you too. I’m glad you called.” Sal pauses for a moment and you hear shuffling.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to move Gizmo off my bed so I can lie down.”

You laugh at the thought of Sal trying his hardest to gently move his very large cat off the bed.

“Just pick him up,” You say, realizing that it’s in his nature to be gentle so he likely wouldn’t.

“No, he’s comfortable.” You hear him scoff in frustration and the thunk of him hitting the bed. “I give up.”

You laugh and change the subject.

“Well, what were you doing before you decided to evacuate Gizmo?”

“Honestly… I was trying to study for my history test, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. It was really hard to try to remember what years the American Revolution took place when the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen kept crossing my mind.”

His sudden compliment made you smile.

“Why, thank you. Luckily I wasn’t doing anything productive, because I promise you I would’ve been in the same boat…” You think for a moment. You both really miss each other, so why not make plans for the weekend?

“Sal, I want to see you. Want to hang out tomorrow?”

He pauses before he answers.

“Why wait?”

“What?”

“Why wait until tomorrow? I miss you now.”

You consider his point. You missed him now, too. But the thorough punishment that awaited you if your parents found out hung over you like a storm cloud.

“Sal, my parents will kill me if I sneak out.”

“Then let me.”

“My parents will also kill me if they catch me sneaking my boyfriend in my room in the dead of night. Can’t you hear how bad that sounds?”

“That’s why they won’t catch me. Please, baby? I can be sneaky, I promise.”

You pause for a moment.

You consider.

You decide the reward outweighs the consequences.

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few then?”

You can hear him silently cheer. “Yes you will. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The phone beeps after the call ends. A rush of adrenaline and emotions flows through you as it fully processes that you’re sneaking your boyfriend in, but the risk just made it that much more fun.

A few minutes pass that consist of you switching between pacing your room and tidying up. You realize that Sal needs to get in somehow, so you turn to leave your room and unlock the back door. Before you could leave, however, you hear a tap on the window.

You throw open your curtains and it is none other than Sal. His electric blue hair illuminated by the moonlight, he stares up at you, eyes visibly crinkled through the eyeholes in his mask.

You open the window to let him in. He smiles up at you and hoists himself onto your windowsill before jumping silently onto your floor. He stops to look around for a moment, then pulls you into his arms.

“We have a door, you know,” You say teasingly.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

You smile at him and draw your hands around his neck, pulling his face closer to yours. You reach to the back of his head and unbuckle his mask, and he bows his head to let you.

You pull the mask off of his scarred face and he looks at you longingly with his bright blue lovesick eyes. Before either of you can speak, you both lean into a kiss. His lips meet yours in a unification powerful enough to make your knees tremble. He wraps a hand around your waist and pulls you deeper into the kiss, allowing you to run your hands through his soft hair.

"Wasn't this worth it? And, hey, I bet your parents are still sound asleep. They don't have a clue!" Sal drags out the last few words of his sentence in an excited whisper.

"Yeah, it was. Thank you for coming over."

"No problem. I missed you and it made me really want to see you."

"I can tell."

He smiles at your comment and moves to sit on your bed. You set his mask on your bedside table and follow his lead by propping yourself up on the headboard, patting the spot beside you to urge him over. He sits right next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He's so close that you can feel how warm he is through his sweater and smell his body wash.

He turns his head to give you a kiss on the cheek. You wrap your arms around his waist and fit your head into the spot between his neck and his collarbone, listening to his heart steadily beating.

"I love you," Sal whispers. "I love you, too."

[songbirdseung]

pink roses / park jongseong

you were used to the toxic side of love but now that you were dating park jongseong, you realize love isn't that bad at all genre fluff, budding relationship, slice of life

the sky was still dark, the rain was pouring down hard, and the voice in your mind was telling you just stay home. but then again, the alarm clock on your bedside table reminds you that work cannot wait and it's time to get up and get ready. whoever invented starting work at 7am? curses.

you begrudgingly toss the blankets off your body and plant your feet on the cold floor. staring into the dark of your room, zooning out until your far in deep to the point where you think the coat on your door is a scary figure. groaning as you get up from your comfy bed to get the day started, not knowing a little surprise was waiting for you in a few minutes.

after a while, as you were tidying up your uniform, the scent of waffles and bacon hit your senses. if it wasn't for the smell, you'd probably be freaking out and thinking you're losing your mind and hallucinating. but you damn well knew who was causing this, smiling as you made your way into the kitchen and proving your hypothesis. it was him.

park jongseong, your lover.

"hey beautiful, you've been up for a while?" plating the food so prettily and turning off the stove, even cleaning after himself. "yeah...you've been here for a while?" "mhm, i came in with the spare key you gave me...hope that's alright" he comes closer to you, giving you a hug and a kiss on your cheek. nodding at him, reassuring him that it was fine. "you practically live here anyway" he laughs and smiles, and God damn. that smile and laugh, it makes your heartbeat faster and your knees weak. "i guess i am here often, huh?"

"why don't you just stay home with me, pretty doll?" bringing you to the table, pulling the chair and pushing it in back in after you take your seat. "besides, the weather is pretty bad" taking his own spot next to you and tucking a strand of hair away from your face to get a better look at you. "i wish..." the thing with jay is; if he wants something, he gets it. he's a major green flag but can be a little greedy when it comes to you. you've noticed that since the very start of your relationship that started 6 months ago. the bare minimum? he goes beyond that, giving more than you think you deserve and whenever you tried to stop him and whine that he's doing too much, he'd usually shut you up with a kiss, telling you that whatever he was doing wasn't even his best.

love bombing? that ain't him either, he knows the limits and your boundaries that you set up. trust him, he knows what he's doing, thank his mother for that.

"your boss already called" "what?" he chuckles at your confused expression and points to your phone that you left in the kitchen. "he called telling you not to come into work, the weather is getting pretty dangerous to go out. maybe an online meeting later or something" smirking as he wipes away the syrup from the corner of your lips. "so, you're telling me, i got dressed in my work clothes for no reason?" sighing as you shove another forkful of waffles in your mouth causing jay to chuckle at you. "wear the top part to your meeting later and wear those comfy cat pjs you like to wear"

later in the day, jay was minding his own business sitting on your living room couch working on his own paperwork when you suddenly came and hugged him from behind. "well, hello to you, pretty baby."

he tilted his head to look at you, asking if you needed anything. you shook your head and just continued hugging him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. jay smiled softly, taking one of your hands and kissing the back of it. "meeting over?" he asked, gently pulling you around to sit beside him on the couch.

"yeah… was hoping to spend time with you now," you said, a small pout forming as your eyes fell on the scattered documents and laptop on the table. the work seemed to mock you with how much it was keeping jay occupied. he caught your gaze and chuckled, pressing another kiss to your knuckles. "just a few more, then i'm all yours."

you nodded with a sigh, but after a few minutes of waiting, your patience began to waver. jay was still deep in concentration, his brows furrowed as he typed. unable to sit still, you leaned closer, resting your head on his shoulder and tracing invisible patterns on his arm.

"babe," jay said softly, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, "you're making it hard to concentrate."

"good," you replied, eyes twinkling with mischief. "you've been working for hours."

"i know, i know," he said, chuckling as he glanced sideways at you. "just give me a bit more time, okay?"

but you weren't done being needy. your hand slid down to lace with his, giving it a light squeeze, and you pressed small kisses to his shoulder, each one more distracting than the last. jay tried to stay focused, but the playful huff he let out told you he was struggling.

"you’re trouble, you know that?" he teased, finally putting down his pen and turning his full attention to you. before you could react, he scooped you up and settled you on his lap, making you gasp at the sudden move. your face flushed as you looked at him, wide-eyed.

"jay!" you exclaimed, trying to regain your composure, but he just grinned, eyes crinkling with amusement. "what? you wanted my attention, didn't you?" he teased, fingers trailing up your sides, making you squirm and giggle.

"stop it, you're not playing fair!" you protested, laughter bubbling out as he leaned in, nuzzling the crook of your neck.

"i thought you liked it when i didn't play fair," he whispered, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. you felt your heart race as his hands stilled, holding you close, the laughter replaced by a soft, contented silence.

"okay, okay, you win," you admitted, resting your forehead against his. he smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

"good," he said. "because i'm finally done, and now, i'm all yours."

[lunaekalenda]

first day of school!

warnings: reader is refered as mom and gojo as dad, dad!gojo, baby daughter!

"Give dad a kiss before leaving." Your husband kneels, making his 1'90 meters accessible for your toddler, who presses a kiss on his dad's cheek with a huge smile. When Satoru asked for the kiss, his eyes were full of love and pride towards the little girl, as they keep shining when he looks back at her. He kisses her temple softly, as he has been doing since she came to your life. "I love you, sunshine. I want all the details of your first day at school when you're back!" She nods quickly before running towards you, hugging your legs. You caress her hair with softness, fingers taking the locks she already took away of the bun to fix them. "You're gonna love the school, I'm sure. Make a lot of friends, yeah?" Your daughter looks at you from her small height. Kneeling softly, you kiss her cheek and she hugs you in return. "Dad and me will come to pick you up later, alright? We'll go have dinner at your favorite place with Megumi." The girl's big blue eyes shine with happiness as she nods, before the bus monitor asks all the kids to sit inside. Almost crying and hugged by your husband, you wave your hand towards your daughter, so little yet so grown, before letting her go. Satoru sighs and starts walking with you towards home. He hands you a tissue, walking at a slow pace towards your home.

"She was so little..." you murmur. He nods softly, his hand searching yours before tangling his fingers with yours. "Feels as if it was yesterday when she would show up in diapers on our bed to get cuddles from her dad." Satoru smiles luminously, as his dad ego gets boosted with your words. Your daughter loves him beyond anything, she's such a daddy girl, and he loves her as much. It's common for you to find both of them spending time together, and even when you join almost every time, there are still those tiny moments you adore finding, such as a sleepy baby on top of your husband, as he reads a book and caresses her back to keep her calm, or how he always puts her on his shoulders so she's able to see everything from his height.

"Will she be alright?" You find yourself wandering in silence what your husband just put in high voice. Will she be alright? Will she miss home as much as you miss her? Will she cry, will she feel overwhelmed by school? Will she adapt to the teachers, to her classmates? She's your very first child, and it's normal to feel that way about it. You smile at Satoru, finding his blue eyes looking worried at the floor, before facing him.

"She'll be alright. She's the strongest, after all." Your husband lets a smile brighten his face as he takes your cheeks on his hands, getting close for a kiss.

At home, you both take the time to clean, tidy up and do the chores, before it's time to wait for your daughter again. You put her drawings in order on the fridge, making room for more, and put her favorite plushies back on her bed. Her fluffy white cat feels raspy under your hands, too used over the years. You need to put her to wash urgently. Satoru got that kitty for her on one of his long trips with the Jujutsu School, one of those days when you feared your husband wouldn't come back home, although he always does, before Megumi took his place as teacher and sorcerer, taking most of the missions, what still leaves both of you on sleepless nights.

The drawings fill also her walls, draws of your family, the dogs, drawings of her, of Megumi, of Yuji and Nobara by her side. She loves them a lot, and you're happy to see how the three young pupils of your husband merge so well on your little family, making friday nights way more fun and happy. Her shelves are full of books and gifts she got from everyone, a cow figure Nanami bought for her when she was two, a fairy house Megumi helped her to build on her third Christmas, a pair of sunglasses matching with his dad. She's so loved by everyone that you feel like your heart might explode.

And him.

The man that looks at you from the corridor door with a side smile, body resting against the wooden surface as his intense blue eyes follow your movements on her room. He takes a couple steps in, touching the girl's bed with his fingertips. "The crib was here." He murmurs, smiling lovingly. "We spent so many sleepless nights by her side, we always ended sleeping cuddled on that brown couch Geto bought for us. Always alert in case she cried. And now, she asks us to read her a tale and sleeps soundly all night on her bed." He looks at you from all his height before sitting on her bed. You take a seat by his side and he kisses your forehead lovingly.

"Believe it or not, I kinda miss that. Watch our tiny baby sleep, feel as if all tiredness disappeared as soon as she called us for the first time." Satoru puts his arms around your shoulders. His grin tells you he's gonna say something.

"Well, you know, if we both liked the experience that much, we can always repeat." you laugh against his body before tangling your hand on his. He kisses it sweetly.

"Let's experience her growing up before, should we?"

He leaves another kiss on your forehead before standing up. Satoru takes your hand and the car keys, since the restaurant it's quite far from the bus stop to go walking, especially, since your daughter will probably be tired after the very first day, before leaving.

When you arrive to the stop, where more parents are waiting for the kids, Satoru holds your hand firmly, checking both sides of the street, to see if he can spot the bus, and his blue eyes shine with emotion when he sees the vehicle. Your daughter runs towards you, your arms and your husband's open for her to hug. Her smile warms your heart as your family hug makes you sigh.

"How was school, sunshine?" Satoru asks, and your daughter smiles excited.

"It was fun! There are a lot of kids in my class!" You smile when you hear her words, before standing up. Satoru cleans a tear that falls down your cheek slowly before taking your daughter's hand on his, and you do the same on the other side, walking towards the car hand by hand. Your husband sits her and puts her belt on, before sitting on the driver's seat and, with your hand between his and the gear level, he starts driving softly towards the restaurant, as your daughter's happy memories of the day fill the car on her sweet voice.

[mayhemspreadingguy]

@magnusbae, not expecting I'd follow through, suggested to sketch Anakin but with cat fangs... Things got out of hand.

Also, look! Magnusbae gifted me with a most lovely fic inspired by my art (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) (fic under the cut, 3,800+ words).

That’s it. Anakin had resisted long enough. 

All through morning, noon and even dinner. He had done his Katas, had finished his chores, even went through his studies, all without so much as a single comment. He deserves to be commended personally by Master Yoda for being an exemplary Jedi. He deserves to be knighted right this moment seeing how he never even mentioned just how force karked awful his Master’s hair looked like for the past week. Sticking in all directions, it grows in uneven patches, the addition of a beard is somehow making his elegant Master look like a beggar from the streets and that, that is intolerable. 

Anakin growls quietly, muscles tense. He knows his Master most likely can feel him staring holes through him, and yet he simply continues reading his datapad, not asking nor looking, radiating calm in the force. Anakin wonders if he could tidy that mess with the power of thought alone. Would that be considered a frivolous use of the force? Even if done in the service of the republic? After all, his Master’s good looks are the cornerstone of the… 

Obi-Wan scratches at the back of his head, clearly bothered and Anakin can’t tolerate this anymore, cannot accept this anymore. His tongue is itching something fierce, his hands are sweating, he cannot sit still like there’s fire ants filling his pants and crawling up his spine. He cannot tolerate this. If not for himself, he must do this for his Master. If not for his Master, then for the order. If not for the order, then for the Galaxy. If not for the Galaxy, then for the Force itself. For he can swear by all that he holds dear that the Force itself is embarrassed by his Master being so unkempt, so ungroomed. 

Unacceptable. This is absolutely unacceptable. His Master has to always look neat and nice and put together, smelling fresh and looking proper. That’s the only right way for his Master to be. Anakin will not stand for it being any other way. He will not. He will make it right. 

His Master ignores the first lick. He often does that, pretends to not notice in the hopes of Anakin stopping after catching himself at his instincts. Oftentimes it works. Oftentimes it is an accident. But not this time. This time it’s very much on purpose and very much intended to continue until Anakin is satisfied with the results. All Anakin needs is for his Master to continue pretending to not notice long enough for him to fix this mess. 

Two more licks, lower neck up the scratchy beard and—

“Anakin—” his Master stops pretending so suddenly that Anakin’s tongue moves over his jawline and across the beard in a way that tickles funny. Anakin likes how it feels, rough and interesting, makes him curious about how it’ll feel like to lick across the jawline, where the beard is the thickest.

Knowing he does not have much time before his Master attempts to stop him altogether, Anakin leans in with renewed urgency, tongue ready, mouth starting to water— “Anakin, stop!” a strong hand pushes against his shoulder, moving him a distance away without being as rough as to push. 

“Mrrphh!” Anakin protests, pushing against the hand but not fighting it actively. His Master can be so bossy when he gets like this, so unreasonable. The only way to win is to use his words, otherwise his Master might just walk off and hide in his rooms instead. Or worse, go meditate in the halls, where everyone will see this shameful disaster.

“You need the grooming, Master!” Anakin starts with the foundation and heart of his objection. His Master always teaches that it’s important to be able to pinpoint the problem early on and address it quickly so as to not let it fester and become bigger than it must be. Granted his Master spoke of interpersonal disputes however it absolutely does apply here. His Master simply cannot deny this reasoning, ergo, will not be able to dispute it as untrue. “So just let me!” Anakin adds, before his Master could somehow find a way to object.

Can’t his Master see that Anakin is offering him a service? Out of the kindness of his heart, no less. Him enjoying the way his Master’s flavor sits on his tongue, the way it makes all the small hairs on his body stand on end, how it fills him with excitement— His Master’s scent, rich and spiced and safe— how he favors it above all else even when the exotic teas make him sneeze and sneeze— the way a single point of contact would narrow his senses into a single point of focus, clear his mind of all worries— the way his vision relaxes, the way his nostrils flare and he inhales and inhales and inhales— the way his heartbeat peaks and then slows, the way his mouth goes dry and he feels thirsty, hungry even— all that, all that has nothing to do with his altruistic motivations. He’s just looking out for his Master. Obviously, duh. 

“Master.” He can hear his own voice, can hear how it takes a whiny note his Master often teases him for. It’s hard to care when he has a goal bigger than his own ego. “Just let me.” He demands, he can hear it and he still doesn’t stop himself from reaching for his Master’s flowing robes, claws catching on the material and making him shudder. Maybe he does need trimming just like his Master insists each time they spar. Maybe Anakin will allow it, if his Master is good and allows him this. Maybe he’d even let his Master groom him too.

The bewilderment in the force clues Anakin on the fact that yes, maybe he did forget to shield, again. He huffs through his nose, wrinkling it. He really doesn’t know what the big deal with this is, doesn’t understand the obsession everyone and especially his Master, has with hiding every single urge and instinct and thought they have. It’s not like he thinks anything he wouldn’t also say out loud. Maybe if the Jedi used less of those shields, it would have been much easier to communicate with them, to bond with them, and maybe then he’d feel less like an outsider, like an odd bird out of its cage.

“Oh Anakin..” Obi-Wan sighs, the tension loosening from his hold against his shoulder, rather than scolding, there’s the hints of the sadness his Master expresses each time Anakin feels alienated in this place. It is not his fault no one understands him, it is not his fault he is different than everyone. 

“Master.” Anakin chirps back, rolling his eyes. His Master has the oddest of tendencies to get hung up on the most particular of topics. Anakin not having enough friends, per his Master’s opinion, is one such topic. Nevermind the fact that Anakin had never seen his Master ever share a true conversation with a single person. Other than himself. Of course. His Master does talk to him.

His Master will get fixated on him instead of thinking about himself and nag him to half death. ‘Anakin get more friends’ and ‘Anakin don’t spread the droid parts all across the quarters’ and ‘Anakin I’m a grown man I can groom myself.’ And while some of those things might be true, obviously, the last one is not. “You look like a mess.” Anakin says it to his face, because he and his Master are real friends.

“Thank you Padawan.” His Master answer, no longer sounding sad, instead his voice is dripping with sarcasm. Anakin doesn’t like it, but he supposes it’s better than sadness. “I do not recall asking for your no doubt impeccable sense of— Ahnakin—!” his ranting stops mid warming up when Anakin uses the opening to dart forward and lick him again, from the lowest exposed spot of his neck, up the smooth skin, his rough tongue making a satisfying ‘shh’ sound as it catches at the hair of the beard and smooths it up with his lick. The flavor is… is… 

Obi-Wan had used some sort of balm… some sort of synthetic musk that makes Anakin’s brain swim funny and eyes to close and mouth to water even more. He has to swallow down the saliva lest he drool like a hungry Tooka. It’s hard not to, when his Master is so, so, so karkin yummy. He slams his shields up with a clumsy thud in the force, but maybe just a moment too late to cover up that last thought.

“Anakin!” his Master sounds properly scandalized, voice raising to a tone that always makes Anakin’s ears ring uncomfortably and the following lecturing tone is no better. “Cease this nonsense immediately, you must not—" 

Anakin licks again. The side of his neck and up to the point where skin meets ear. “Master.” He says there, voice dropping into a purr that morphs into a warning growl he didn’t even think of making, there’s no aggression, only the frustrated warning to not stop him in the middle of something so damn important. Grooming, is important. More than Katas or studies or meditations. Maybe even more than sparring. And Anakin loves sparring. 

All Anakin wants is for his Master to sit quietly and let him take care of him. The way he ought to, the way he was meant to do. It’s his job, after all, is it not? He is Obi-Wan’s Padawan, it’s only natural he would tend to his Master, that he would care for him, that he would help him. That just makes sense. That rings true in the force and that’s all Anakin needs to know.

"I will.” He declares, it is no longer a request nor a plea, it is a declaration of intentions. A declaration of intent. He presses his nose at the soft skin under his Master’s ear and inhales, deeply, the scent making him Master-stupid so he says what’s on his mind with no filters, with no thought. “Unless you hate me.” His voice drops softer, he can’t breath, having inhaled too much of the strongest drug known to him. “Then I won’t” he trembles, he waits, if his Master rejects him, if he does hate him for his care, he will, he

“Anakin, this is hardly related, I do not think that—”

The force between them sparks and Obi-Wan’s mouth snaps closed with an audible click of the jaw. There’s a tension and a heating of an eruption that is halted with the calming breeze of spring air, Obi-Wan’s Force Signature covering his own, soothing, embracing, calming. “Very well, Padawan.” Obi-Wan speaks with a voice of a man who’s been worn in battle, sighing out in exhaustion.b “Since you cannot resist your nature, I’ll allow it.“ He pauses, sounding not a little doubtful as he adds the obligatory “Just this once, Anakin.” A final form of giving in, one Anakin is familiar with. 

There’s an ‘You should be old enough to know better’ goes unsaid and so Anakin ignores it. It wouldn’t have mattered even if Obi-Wan did say it. He had before, many times, and it never mattered. Anakin somehow doubts it’ll matter even when he grows taller than Obi-Wan. And he will, he just knows it. He will grow tall and strong, and he will always take care of his Master, and Obi-Wan would not be able to argue with that. Because it’ll all make sense. It always does. Everything about them does. 

If only his Master understood him better, he’d know that one doesn’t just grow out of wishing to groom those he cares and…loves. This is something that is forever and always. That is something that only grows and deepens, something to be shared and relished. Something he will always give to his Master freely, even if his Master maybe doesn’t…. Really share it in the same way as him. Which is fine. He had decided a long time ago. It is fine. 

It is enough that he gets to care for his Master. So he smiles instead and purrs out a sweet “Thank you, Master.” In that respectful manner he knows his Master enjoys hearing. He giggles when he feels his Master’s breath hitching, giggles more when nuzzling against the neck tickles his nose. “This is so horrible.” He complains, wanting his Master to know how strongly he objects to this change, and yet he cannot stop giggling. “Master!” he doesn’t even try to hide his joy from his voice, nevermind from the Force.

His Force Signature is a slow pulse of contentment, securely tucked beneath Obi-Wan’s still. When he licks small licks under Obi-Wan’s ear, he can feel his Master’s breath catching, can feel the way he stops breathing entirely and the soft gasp when Anakin licks at his ear directly, once, twice, a few more times just to test how committed his Master is to this session. Very, it seems. His Master doesn’t object even when Anakin grows bold and nibbles at his earlobe, tugging ever so gently. His Master is always so sensitive around this area, always so jumpy if Anakin stays too long at this spot. It always makes Anakin want to lick there until Obi-Wan loses his composure entirely.

He never does. 

At least not too much.

He does want to groom Obi-Wan after all, not only bully him into squirming because he is so damn ticklish there. That is not to say that he is above wanting to see his pristine Master squirming a little. So he licks there again, and when his tongue dips only a little into the ear, his Master finally jumps and moves away, breathing harshly and looking redder than his hair.

“Anakin I do believe that my hair is not located in that particular spot and—” his hands close on Anakin’s shoulders when he makes it to the ear again, wanting to nibble just one more time, just one last time… “Anakin.” His Master’s firm voice snaps him back into focus, tells him gently through the force to not overdo it. Fine, fine. He will not overdo it. This time.

"Just relax, Mastah.” Anakin pouts, the word slurring in the way his Master always corrects. Always, but not now. Anakin reaches for his Master’s wide shoulders and waits a moment until his Master’s grip loosens enough for him to actually move. It’s easy enough to shift to his Master’s lap. One knee over and sitting down in one smooth motion that has a practiced finesse to it. You either get to Obi-Wan’s lap swiftly, or you don’t at all. There is no room for hesitation for his Master will do enough hesitating for the both of them. So he sits down and nudges closer, right away. Inhaling, inhaling deeper.

Oh how he wants their scent to become one. They’re already nearly inseparable, living as closely as they do, using the same soaps, eating the same foods. Anakin wants more. Anakin wishes that they could smell and feel like one. United. Clearly bonded. Even more than they are through the force. He wants it so much that his fangs itch, itch, itch to bite and bite and bite. But no. No he is here to groom, to care. Not to bite, not to… mark. His cheeks are warm with it, knowing that he has, and is, constantly considering this. Wondering about this, curious about this. About marking his Master in a way that will be known, in a way that will be understood. He thinks about it, always. Luckily his Master has no clue. Luckily, Obi-Wan does not know. Or he wouldn’t let him sit here so carelessly, surely, he wouldn’t. 

“It’s part of it, duh.” Anakin says without truly knowing what he speaks of. The grooming, the licking, the biting, the sitting on the lap? He doesn’t know. He only knows of the happy, loud purr that fills his lungs when Obi-Wan doesn’t stop him from leaning back in, back to his neck, nuzzling, smelling, licking up that rough, funny tasting beard and to his hair, spiky and significantly softer than the beard. He giggles again, and purrs. It’s an odd combination of sounds he does try to stop but doesn’t manage. He is too preoccupied for dignity, or decorum, or class. He’s too karking pleased. 

When he licks at his Master’s neck again, the man tilts his head up and away, exposing his throat for him. Good. Good. Good, great, awesome.

His Master couldn’t have displayed his trust more plainly than this. No words could have conveyed the same level of commitment, of confidence and belief. Exposing one’s throat, Anakin thinks, is a universal sign. Even if his Master is less inclined to instincts as Anakin is, it still counts, it still matters a whole lot that he does it for him. His Master does it because he knows it matters to him and that— that matters more than all else.

His own purring is deafening, drumming in his eardrums and filling his chest with sound, he used to try to hide this in the past when he realized that most Padawans did not purr at every one of their Master’s compliments or gestures of kindness. He no longer bothers. He pulls and licks and purrs some more. He takes his time, licking small, measured licks, taking care to put that awful messy beard into something much neater, dignified.

“Maste-rrr.” He draws the ‘R’, nuzzling again under the ear and grinning when his Master shudders but doesn’t pull away, he always gives him a chance to be good. So he will be good. He does not nibble, instead he wraps his lips carefully around the bit of skin where no hair touches. Oh he wants to suck, to mark, to taste. Oh he does, so much. But he doesn’t. He will be good, because his Master believes him to be good, and proper, and nice. So he will be. 

His cheeks are fire hot when he thinks about what else he would have liked to be doing instead of the promised grooming. That is not something he should be thinking of, nor something his Master would ever permit, but…

Thinking is not illegal and he is not good at not thinking. 

So he imagines it. Imagines how his Master’s hands would feel on his hips, imagines his Master yanking him down to sit properly on his lap, Imagines his Master wanting him to lick elsewhere and—

“Ahnakin—” Obi-Wan protests, so strongly it rings in the force with his words. He feels and looks scandalized, even more so than before. He looks like he is considering all his choices and decisions. He looks like he’s about to call quits. He looks like he’d push Anakin away, he— places his hands on Anakin’s hips and pulls him down, to sit properly. 

The whine that escapes Anakin’s lips is nothing short of mortifying. It’s a needy, surprised thing, he feels like a proper youngling, confused and shy. He seeks the refuge of his Master’s neck and hides there, nuzzling while whining again, complaining, scandalized too by his Master’s audacity to follow his dreams up like this. He can’t mean it, he simply can’t! It is a mere coincidence, his Master would never follow his fantasies, he didn’t even hear it, his shields are up and proper, he’s sure of it, he’s sure of it, he’s… 

“Sorry…” Anakin murmurs out, because if he’s honest, he is not sure if his shields are worth anything with how excited he had gotten. Maybe his Master did hear, maybe his Master did feel something. Maybe he did push a little too hard. He doesn’t want to push too hard, he knows that sometimes his Master gets nervous because of his thoughts. Not angry, never angry.

He doesn’t want to make his Master nervous, he can feel the tell-tales of it in the force. Despite his Master’s secure hold on him, despite his Master’s unmoving frame. He can feel the building up hesitation. He does not want his Master to feel that way with him. 

“I’ll stop.” He promises his Master, assures him. He’ll try to, anyway. For his Master he’d try to go against his nature, even if his nature does tell him to think and do all sorts of things. Sometimes, in the quiet of the night when he can’t sleep and he thinks of his Master and every word they had ever passed, he does wonder about this. Is this truly his nature, his instincts that drive him to act as he does, or is it simply how he is with his Master? He suspects he knows the answer to that, but it’s easier for the both of them to call it instincts and be over with it, so he never disputes it. “Really.”

There’s a charged silence and then, blessedly, his Master says the two words Anakin loves more than anything else in the world, the two words for which he, not jokingly, thinks he might be willing to die for. 

“Good boy.”

The Coruscanti accent is thick and rolling, he sounds almost distracted, he sounds… 

Anakin shuts his eyes and bites his tongue, fangs digging into the soft flesh. He must not think of exactly how he imagines his Master sounding. He should not think about how his hands feel warm and human on his hips. He should not think about the lingering flavor on his tongue nor how his lungs are full of Obi-Wan, of his Master. He should not, is not allowed to. Promised not to. Instead he wraps his arms around his Master’s neck and hugs him, pulling the larger man to himself, having his head against his chest for a few long moments in which he is sure Obi-Wan hears just how fast his heart goes. He surely can feel it through the bond, it’s going crazy, ba-dum, ba-dum. 

He can feel a distant echo of his own heartbeat, almost imperceptible to his senses, and yet there. An answer. Thoomp-thoomp.

When he leans back, he moves his hands to cup his Master’s cheeks and makes him tilt his head up, to face him. “You look good now,” His fangs stretch at his lips as he grins wide enough to hurt. “Master!” he adds, cheekily.

His Master’s eyes are a bright blue, the deepest, calmest pond. He rolls them shortly, then looks directly into Anakin’s own eyes and smiles at him, sarcasm dripping with fondness as he says “Thank you. Ah-nah-kin.” With the most accented tone Anakin had ever heard. There’s so much black in his Master’s eyes, a beautiful, wondrous thing that makes him itch all over and want to see more of that soft darkness no one else gets to see. 

No one else, but him. 

[omiomi-kyun]

00:58 a.m. — good morning!

kozume kenma was a force to be reckon with. from the moment he bump into you while walking the streets as he plays with his switch, to the day you became part of nekoma boys' volleyball team's manager; kenma never, not even once, failed to frown at you.

“why does he hate me so much?” you asked kuroo while tidying up the towels they used during their practice. “i never nagged him whenever he's playing while walking—which is dangerous, by the way.”

kuroo chuckled before ruffling your hair. “he doesn't hate you.”

“but he doesn't like me either?” you asked while fixing your hair.

“he's just not used to other people that much. it'll take time, but don't worry too much. he'll eventually approach you like the cat that he is.”

and for some reason, the next day, kenma finally acknowledged your existence!

“good morning,” his smooth voice shook your entire being. it was the first time he spoke directly to you. “are you okay?”

“yes? no!” flustered, you shook your head rapidly. “i mean, i'm fine! thank you for asking.”

he snickered. you thought your mind was probably playing some tricks on you, but when you turned to him while slightly covering his lips, you knew that what you heard was real.

kozume kenma just snickered. at you. for a silly reason, yes. but still! you'll take it as a win!

you both walk towards your classroom while he plays with his switch. “um, good morning to you too, kenma-san.”

“just kenma,” he said in a quiet voice. “we're in the same year.”

your mind stopped functioning for a few seconds before a grin appears on your lips.

“kenma...” you repeated while your heart continues to race. but he suddenly stopped walking.

he turned to you before looking up at the sign above the doorway.

“oh...” you muttered, disappointed for the short-lived moment.

“i'll see you later,” he said with a smile.

your breathing hitched.

“see... see you later!” you responded.

you quickly entered your classroom before sprinting towards your seat.

[delirious-donna]

As Sweet As A Grape [Gen Narumi]

an: as confident as Captain Narumi might be on the battlefield, he's not the same man behind closed doors. Not at least until he's got you on your back with his mouth exactly where he wants it...

pairing: Gen Narumi x female reader

warnings: pussy eating, Narumi being pussy drunk, he's a little bit nervous, a true wet cat boy imo

Masterlist

He was nervous, that much was evident. His smile was strained, the corners wavering enough that there were times it was more of a grimace than a smile. It was unusual to say the least. This was Gen Narumi, the famed Captain of the Defense Force, and nothing hinted at insecurities if you were just to look at his social media presence. Of course, you knew better than that. You had spent long enough by his side, although in the shadows, to know that most of the time, it was a clever façade.

Your… lover? The term felt wrong, but given the yet unnamed status of your relationship, it would have to do for now. Your lover was a little nervous at times, but that only made him all the sweeter in your eyes.

Yes, it was rather thrilling to know that behind closed doors, the man famed for his unrivalled prowess on the battlefield was a softie who wanted to be snuggled and wrapped in affection. The media would have a field day with that information, making it all the more special that he was willing to share that side with you. Narumi felt no need to masquerade for you, he was comfortable in his own skin despite his current bout of nerves.

You watched as his pink tongue peeked out to swipe a path across his suddenly parched lips, chuckling in delight when his eyes dipped to your body. The hunger was more than obvious, his pupils dilated and focused on every curve and dip that you knew he wanted to touch and more. It was kinda sexy… kinda empowering to bring such a powerful man to his knees.

Narumi was the poster boy from the Defense Force, his image meant everything to him and here he was on his knees in damn near supplication because you had decided to surprise him with an after-hours visit in the hopes of finding a slice of bliss. The heart he kept behind lock and key was offered on a silver platter, and he could only hope you would be careful with it.

“Good evening, Captain. I believe it is well past your bedtime, why ever are you still awake?”

Stepping into his quarters, you draped your arms over his shoulders with a pleased purr. He’d tidied up hastily you noticed, duvet messily shoved atop his bed and a haphazard stack of manga leant against the small desk. His gaming consoles were all powered down and you hummed your approval whilst stepping into his body.

Offering a saccharine smile, you reached to your toes and deposited a small kiss to his pursed lips at the same moment his hands found your hips. His broad palms eased beneath the excess fabric of his sweatshirt hanging loosely on your frame, smoothing over your supple skin until he reached the edge of your underwear.

A strangled noise sounded from his throat, fingers flexing stiffly, and his cheeks warmed to a pretty pink when he realised exactly why you were here and the state of dress—or undress—you had traversed the corridors to reach him. Just the thought alone of his subordinates catching sight of your bare legs and bedroom eyes was enough to have him kicking the door shut with such force that the frame rattled.

“I-I wasn’t expecting visitors at…” He glanced at the clock, struggling to maintain your eye contact and thankful of the short reprieve. “… 1am. You should be in bed. I should be in bed.”

Your fingers carded through his mane of hair, pushing back the silver strands that hung across his forehead to reveal eyebrows pinched in concentration. He was so pretty like this, shy but yearning.

“I’m here because I need something… or someone, but I get the feeling that you too need something.” You toyed with the collar of his t-shirt, lips brushing the corner of his mouth. “Tell me, what do you want, Captain?”

A shuddering breath fell onto your ears before he spoke, vermillion feline-like irises crackling with electricity studied your features in reverence. You were like a wet dream come to life, a walking fantasy wrapped in his clothes and purring at him like only he had the ability to fix your every problem.

“I-I want to… to taste you,” he admitted. You rewarded his honesty with a scratch at his scalp, fingers curled around the darker roots and tugging until his hips bucked forward.

“Anything for you, Gen.”

He groaned at his softly uttered name, finally letting go of his restraint to paw greedily at your backside. Narumi filled his palms with the meat of you, squeezing and spreading you apart while he shoved the erection flush against his thigh between your parted legs. This was more like it. Manoeuvring you towards his bed, he let you tumble down first. You could only watch through low-lidded eyes as he grabbed the neck of his shirt from the nape and tugged it overhead.

You moaned into his plush mouth, letting your tongue tease at the points of his teeth and indulging in the vanilla taste that infused upon your tongue. Divested of the sweatshirt, you arched into the palms that groped at your breasts. Nipping at his lips when rough fingertips pinched and rolled your taut buds. He was everywhere, hands and mouth decorating your skin until you were scent-marked and bruised by his eagerness. Then, and only then did he crawl down your body, all panther sleek and rolling muscles along his shoulders and back.

His confidence was growing the longer he remained between your thighs, a leg draped over his shoulder and finger marks on the sensitive inner thigh to keep you open to his indulgencies. This was what you wanted, what had you scrambling out of bed in the dead of night, the ache in your belly deepened and pulled taut. Shivers rippling over your exposed body, vulnerable to him but completely safe in the knowledge that he would rather die than hurt you in any way.

Gen glanced up, his mouth dripped with a mixture of your arousal and his saliva. It pooled over his tongue, dribbling to his chin as he slurped you down messily. Your eyes rolled over at the decadence of it all. He was a messy eater, the sound of smacking lips utterly lewd in the otherwise hushed room. Every thrust of the strong muscle of his tongue into your tight little hole slurped and slicked, it dulled your senses right down to only the feel of his mouth on your hot cunt.

“—taste so good… gonna drown in you. Do not resuscitate,” he whimpered, eliciting a bubble of laughter from your chest.

Your thighs tightened, the hold he had slipping until you trapped his head between them, and he moaned into the depths of you, delighted and honoured if he were to die right here, like this. Holding him in place, you whined a pathetic mewl when he tongued your clit and let his lips wrap around the engorged nub. Gen shook his head from side to side, letting your fingers tug and pull at the mixture of black and silver hairs until he thought he might cum in shorts. The way your hips were rutting against his mouth, his nose bumping at your clitoral hood and the shameless display of your free hand tweaking your pebbled nipples was proving too much for the poor man. His self-control was slipping through his fingers much like the strands of silk pouring from your pussy.

“Gen! Oh fuck—do it again,” you begged, rolling your hips and locking eyes with carmine lust-blown irises. “Please…”

That sweet breathless please was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Unbeknownst to you, Narumi rutted his achingly hard and throbbing cock against the sheets and each time he caught against the folds in the rumpled mess, he whimpered into your cunt. His thighs pressed tight together, the pressure building in his gut close to bursting.

Again, he repeated the action of shaking his face like a damn dog between your swollen, blood engorged folds. Soft lips suckled your puffy clit, rolling it carefully between his teeth and attacking it with the pointed tip of his tongue. As you exploded beneath him, bliss flowing out you from every pore at the crescendo of pleasure hitting like a truck, the sight of your spine arching high, the gush of your nectar crashing against his awaiting mouth and the clenching muscles of your cunt spasming around nothing but his tongue was his ultimate undoing.

Gen Narumi, Division One Captain of the Defense Force moaned and writhed like a worm caught on a hook. His body jerked into wild convulsions as he spilled hot ropes of his spend against his messy sheets—completely untouched.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Taiwan has one show, but that's all they need

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

April 2024 Wk 1

Ongoing Series - Thai

Two Worlds (Thurs IQIYI) ep 4 of 10 - I don’t say this often but I LOVE this love triangle. The longing gazes = chef's kiss. I like that we are finally getting flashbacks to Tai’s side of the love affaire. This show remains highly engaging. So pleased for MaxNat.  

Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 5 of 8 - More lesbians! Yay! Meanwhile, when our leads make up they make out! (Yes I’m proud of myself.) I think this might be BLs first rooftop sex scene. We’ve reached new heights, BLabies. (Yes I’m proud of that too.) Anygay, basically a soap opera at this point, I'm not thrilled but I don’t mind.

"Do you apologize for being straight?"

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - It was lovely. Very well done celebrity leaving the closet ep. Nice ensemble work too. Next week is doom! As expected. 

Only Boo! (Sun YouTube) ep 1 of 12 - New main couple for GMMTV in an idol romance about a boy who dances good and a food stand vendor. It’s fine but overly very pulp feeling for something from GMMTV. I'm a little concerned.

1000 Years Old (Thurs iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - meh.

To Be Continued (Sat C3 Thailand grey) ep 7 of 8 - Never turned up on my usual sites. So will have to wait until next week. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Unknown (Taiwan Tues YouTube & Viki) ep 7 of 11 - Qian was, indeed, the one who couldn’t let go. This show is fucking fantastic. It's the best thing I'm watching right now by a mile.

Jazz for Two (Korea Gaga/grey) eps 3-8fin - The bully and the blue-haired drummer side pairing were great. I hated the father. Hated him so much. Our main tsundere seme was a bit too tsundere for me. I was v annoyed by the time he finally softened. I'm amused by all the ways they finagled boys kissin-but-not-kissing in the first half of this show. 2024's "pan around the back of the head" has now become a "dipping of the brolly." We did, however, eventually get an okay kiss.

Honestly?

This was basically what I wanted from Given and didn’t get. So I’m pleased. The music still wasn't great, but you can skip those bits. A solid enemies to lovers BL, where the sins of brothers' past haunts the present. Great optics, decent chemistry, and a tidy script even if tsundere characterization went a bit extreme in some cases. 8/10 RECOMMENDED trigger for suicide

Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 5 of 6 - We got the past betrayal in detail and it was decently bad. Bitterness understood. Too soon to live together! The BL U-Haul strikes again. I do like their weird curry passive aggressive argument. This is an interesting show. Do I LOVE it? No. But I think I like it.

On a not-really-related note: adoption, including adult adoption, is actually pretty common in Japan (comparatively). It's often tied to business scionism.

My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 8fin - It all turned out to be a tragic GL in the end. Not BL = not my problem. No rating. I will forget its existence right about… now. 

Love is like a Cat (Korea Mon Viki) eps 1-2 of 12 - Okay, weirdly kinky with the head scratching. Not much has happened and I’m not wild about what has. 

It's done, ready to binge, but I suck

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps

It's airing but...

We Are (Weds GMMTV iQIYI) ep 1 of 16 - University ensemble BL featuring PondPhuwin, WinnySatang, AouBoom, MarcPawinPoon - basically the good kind of messy gay friendship group (so more My Engineer and less Only Friends). Looks a bit like the Kiss series but everyone is queer. I'm IN but I need my other computer and I'm traveling as usual. So I'll get caught up next week and probably won't regularly be able to watch this one.

Graduation Countdown (Taiwan YouTube) - It's too much for me to keep up with 2 minute verticals, I don't have that kind of TikTok endurance training.

A Secretly Love (Thai Sat WeTV grey) 10 eps - Completed. Worth watching?

Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.

Kiseki Chapter 2 (Sun iQIYI) 6 eps - It’s so boring DNFed at 2.

Close Friend Season 3: Soju Bomb! (Weds iQIYI) 6 - The problem with situational comedy BL is it must be situational, comedic and a BL. This show gets 1 of 3 claims correct. 33% is not a passing grade. Dropped at 3.

In the news

Takumi-kun Series 6: Nagai Nagai Monogatari is getting the undeserved honor of Furritsubs. Follow them for details. Tip 'em if you like 'em. (Will I watch it? Oh, probably. Damn it.)

Then Next Prince turned out to be a trailer only. Word on the webs is we will be lucky if we get it this year. It’s BL Princess Diaries. Jimmy has a new pairing (that boy from Night Dream) which is... interesting. All in all, this show does not look good. Pretty but not good.

Next Week Looks Like This:

4/11 Gray Shelter AKA Gray Currents (Korea ????) 4 eps - SooHyuk is only just surviving and reunites with YoonDae, an old friend. They end up living together. One of the leads is played by Choco of Choco Milk Shake.

4/12 Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - Kindly Ryota goes off to uni only to find his new roommate is his childhood bestie, Kazuhito. Kazuhito doesn’t have a girlfriend and Ryota tries to help him figure out why, they fall in love along the way. Same director as Old Fashion Cupcake.

Still to Come in April

4/18 At 25:00, in Alaska AKA 25 Ji, Akasaka de (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - Yuki lands his first starring role in a BL drama alongside superstar Asami (previously his senior at uni). Said superstar suggests they form a sham relationship until filming concludes. As they actually begin to fall in love, the spotlight begins to burn. I think I've seen this before (joke) and also the trailer doesn't inspire confidence.

4/26 My Stand-In (Thai iQIYI) 12 eps - adaptation of Chinese novel "Professional Body Double" by Shui Qiang Cheng. Stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please) directed by the same team as KP (not a recommendation IMHO - my biggest criticism of that show was the clashing directing styles). This one looks well complicated, lemme try: Joe is a stuntman for famous actor Tong. Joe falls in love with Ming but Ming sees Joe as nothing more than a Tong-replacement. After learning this horrible truth, Joe dies. Joe then wakes up in the body of another man also named Joe. He manages to rebuild the same life as before—with the same people eventually re-meeting Ming. Ming wants Joe back but Joe doesn't understand why. But Ming seems to know what's going on and wants to give him some kind of explanation.

I'm exhausted just trying to describe the plot.

Knock-Knock Boys (Thai WeTV) - 4 college friends conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. Familiar faces like Seng (yes, Billy's previous partner) and Best, news here.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

NOTE: It looks like one of my personal favorites of last year Unintentional Love Story is getting a spin off!

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

See City of Stars & Unknown.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are too much work.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

What's something bad all the character's do when in a relationship? (I think you might have done this before???? But I can't find it)

Oh lmao, a lot of these are minor issues but here's what I think!

Mikey- wants to always sleep with his old towel that he never let's you wash, tries to share it with you too even though it's too small and then gets pouty when it doesn't cover you both.

Draken- sometimes he gets a bit too invested motorbike, will ignore you for it.

Takemichi- says he'll handle dinner but then just gets takeout instead of cooking.

Baji- will leave bed in the middle of the night to go feed cats without you waking up "damn it Keisuke, I wanted to see the cats too!"

Chifuyu- uses manga for all his date ideas (ok this actually sounds kinda cute but be prepared for him to have the manga with him on the date and peak at it like an instruction manual throughout)

Mitsuya- works too hard

Hakkai- occasionally when he wakes up he forgets he's ok to talk to you and gets nervous all over again in his sleepy state

Pah- talks too loudly on the phone (he says it's because he's excited to talk to you but still shhhhh)

Peh- wants to invite Pah with you guys on all your dates

Smiley- threatens to kill you when you sneak up on him and kiss him (he's just a bit flustered and panicking)

Angry- takes your injuries too seriously, a tiny paper cut? Be prepared to have a bunch of plasters put on it (a kiss too)

Mucho- sir we cannot fix every argument with cheese cake

Sanzu- will follow you around to make sure you're safe at times

Kisaki- just assumes you're as good at maths as he is, will ask you random maths questions while you grocery shop to figure out prices and deals. You keep having to explain the need for a calculator to him.

Hanma- will try to irritate you just because he finds your angry reaction "cute and fun"

Kazutora- is a bit too clingy at times, be prepared to be late for work because of hugs.

Hina- will tidy up your stuff and make you lose it

Emma- insists on you having a special cute ringtone specifically for her and your phone can't be on silent.

Naoto- is very secretive about his police work,  will not tell you how his day has been.

Akkun- begs to do practice hair cuts on you, will chase you around with a pair of scissors begging you.

Takuya- tries to act too strong when he's sick, he doesn't want to seem weak to you so he takes on too much and ends up getting worse. 

Makoto- won't stop stealing your underwear 

Yamagishi- will tell you delinquent facts at the most random times, be prepared to hear about old fights while brushing your teeth.

Koko- panics over what to buy you for birthdays because he just spoils you all throughout the year, pouts close to your birthday.

Inui- can walk better in heels then you

Taiju- laughs too loud, if you're not expecting it then it can cause you to jump.

Yuzuha- Too many other people wanting her attention, easy to feel forgotten about sometimes.

Izana- talks to his fish about you but you never know what he's saying because he always stops when he sees you (he's actually just saying how in love he is but you don't know that)

Kakucho- is so nervous about you meeting izana and wanting the two of you to get along that he sweats the whole time during that first meeting (you and izana bond over teasing him about it)

Mochi- finds it easy to carry you so will sometimes just randomly pick you up if he feels you're walking too slow.

Ran- keeps low key insulting your hair when talking about his own (takes you to the salon often too)

Rindou- gets overly competitive with you at the gym, he may love you but he's not going easy on you (though I feel like a lot of you won't complain about the limb locking)

Shion- accidentally let slip he was planning to propose like a week early.

Senju- will randomly grab your hand and start quickly running if she wants to show you something (good luck with keeping up with her)

Takeomi- will steal the blankets as you're sleeping 

Wakasa- if he thinks you're talking too much or grinding your teeth or something then he'll just place his dango stick in your mouth.

Shinichiro- be prepared for cheesy pick up lines 24/7 (he wants you to say them back too)

Benkei- sometimes just throws his clothes at your head randomly (he actually wants you to wear them but instead of just asking you'll suddenly be plunged into darkness by a jacket landing on your head.

South- will sometimes randomly serenade you, even in public causing everyone to stare.

[sadhours]

blue sunday

chapter two

billy hargrove x fem!oc (daisy way)

masterlist

cw: 18+, minors dni, smut, nipple play, p in v, unprotected, talk about babies

summary: the day after the first night Daisy spends in her new home with her new husband.

She hit the jackpot. He’s got a job, he’s got a sick ass car and he owns a house. Trailer. Whatever. It’s better than the fucking Starlite Motel. He’s the hottest man she’s seen in this shit town— Hell, he’s the hottest man she’s seen, ever. So maybe she manipulated the situation to get what she wanted. She doesn’t care. Daisy feels the same magnetic pull Billy does, she feels justified in using her body to get here.

Billy’s trailer is tidy. Not like a clean freak tidy, but like he doesn’t spend all that much time here. He barely has belongings. There’s furniture. A used and abused couch, definitely owned by cat people before Billy got his hands on it. Daisy thinks he might’ve found it on the side of the road. A coffee table from the 60’s, with rings and stains on it. It’s covered in papers and receipts and empty cigarette packs. Two big glass ashtrays and several empty beer cans. His room is interesting. A mattress on the floor, sheets that used to be white but have been tinged yellow by sweat and a big, scratchy brown blanket. The closet has plenty of room for Daisy’s clothes and Billy helped put them in there.

Helped is a stretch, considering that Daisy just sat on the bed and admired him as he did all the work. Because holy fuck, is he gorgeous. Dirty blonde mullet that’s outgrown but he has curls and he obviously takes pride in them but hasn’t bothered to get a haircut in a while. Daisy likes it, though. He was wearing a white muscle tee and denim jeans that he cut into very short shorts. She stared at his thighs until she couldn’t help herself. Crawled over to him and sucked his cock as he leant against the doorframe of the closet.

Billy is the prettiest man Daisy’s ever been with. And she’s been with a lot of men. She did have to have an awkward conversation about how she made money. But it wasn’t as bad as he thought. Daisy’s a stripper. Or was, until she was fired for fighting a particularly drunk patron who grabbed her ankle while she was on stage. Daisy’s got a mean left hook and broke the fuckers nose. He deserved it. But now she has no income.

Her new husband told her not to worry, he’ll take care of her. Daisy’s pretty certain he was relieved she wasn’t a prostitute and he did ask for a lap dance. Which she owes him.

The first night sleeping next to him was so exciting that they barely got any sleep before Billy had to wake up at five to get ready for work. Then Daisy slept the day away.

“Baby,” she hears, warm and deep against her ear as she feels a large hand on her hip.

As she blinks awake, she’s met with a dirty Billy. His shirt is covered in dirt, his curls not as defined and he reeks of sweat. An incredibly arousing smell that has her gripping his shirt and pulling him into a kiss.

“Fuck, you smell good,” she mumbles into it.

Billy laughs, it feels good and lovely against her mouth and she’s spreading her legs under the covers, “I fucking reek. I need a shower.”

“You need to fuck me,” Daisy challenges, kicking the blankets off her legs.

“Do I?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and he has that stupid and gorgeous smirk on his face.

“We both need it,” she insists, pulling him on top of her.

They don’t even undress, just enough shuffling to get Billy’s cock out and Daisy’s pussy exposed. He still has his work boots on, dirtying up the sheets as he slips his cock into her. They’re like animals in heat. It’s a bit ridiculous. But he ruts into her like he’s earned it and Daisy’s wrapping her legs around his waist and begging for it.

“Fuck,” Billy curses, face so close to Daisy’s she can feel his scruff against her cheek.

“Yeah, fuck me, fuck me, daddy,” she whines, pulling on his dirty hair, “Feels so good…”

“You always want it,” he mumbles, “You’re like a fucking dream…”

Daisy nods, “Need it… need you all the time, give it to me.”

Billy holds her thighs up, pounding into her relentlessly, “You take it so good… such a good girl for me.”

She feels feral for him, in a way she’s never felt for another person. Maybe their relationship is completely built on sex, hell it’s so new but she doesn’t care. All she knows is she wants Billy. And she’ll do anything to keep him. The chemistry is heavy though. He’s easy to be around, she knows if she wasn’t asleep the whole time she would’ve missed him like crazy and they just met. And he’s her fucking husband. That realization has her tightening around him and crazy enough, she’s close to cumming. At the simple thought that this sexy man is her husband.

“I’m gonna cum,” she confesses, “I’m gonna fucking cum, don’t stop!”

Billy pistons his hips, driving his cock deeper into her. Over and over until she’s screaming and melting on his cock. It’s delicious. But Daisy’s insatiable with Billy. Doesn’t want this to end. Billy does good, doesn’t explode the second she does so she gets to hold onto it for longer. Clutching onto him desperately as she revels in the feeling of pure ecstasy he gives her. Reaches up and tweaks her own nipple to draw the orgasm out longer. Her legs are shaking the longer it goes on until Billy huffs, flips them over so she’s straddling him and he grabs her hips.

“What? D’ya get tired?” Daisy teases as she grinds down on him, eyes threatening to roll back as the tip of his cock brushes over her sensitive spot.

Billy rolls his own eyes, a smirk playing at his pretty pink lips as he replies, “I was just building a fucking house for eight hours and you slept all day. Think it’s only fair if you do some of the work. Get your workout in. Make me cum.”

Well, she can’t exactly argue with that. Daisy bounces up and down, her legs burn from earlier though. The way he had them pinned up wasn’t the most comfortable position but he’s given her a challenge. And Daisy doesn’t shy away from those.

She works for it, mouth hanging open in concentration as she rides Billy. His mouth mirrors hers, open for a different reason though. She places her hands on his chest, using the leverage to bounce a little higher and a lot harder. But while her hands are there, her pinky swipes against Billy’s perked nipple and he gasps, his hips jerking up from the sensation and Daisy’s eyes widen, her plush lips quirking up into a shiteating grin.

“Oh,” is all she says before pushing his dirty shirt up over his pecks. Daisy lightly grazes her thumbs over his nipples and a beautiful moan tumbles from Billy’s lips. She keeps on, moving her thumbs in circles and occasionally pinching his nipples as she rides him all slow and deliberate.

“Faster,” he grunts, “so close.”

“Wanna feel you fill me up,” she tells him, voice all breathy as she picks up the pace and keeps toying with his hard nipples. With each drag of his pulsing cock against her walls, Daisy feels herself ramping up towards a second orgasm. Which is insane to her. It’s rare to cum once, it’s unheard of to cum twice and this fucker makes it happen almost every single time.

And it’s like he knows or something, because he moves his hand from her hip down to her cunt and presses his thumb on her aching clit. It sends shockwaves all over Daisy’s body and he laughs as she bends forward a little bit. She lets him have it, though. Works her hips faster and harder even though her thighs are screaming at her to slow down. Billy’s thumb moves in quick circles and Daisy’s a goner. Her hands grab onto Billy’s pecks, nails scratching at her warm, tanned skin as she writhes against him. A string of moans falling from her lips as she’s washed in a second wave of ecstasy. Then Billy’s grabbing her hips again, holding her steady as he thrusts up into her, hard and fast. And he finishes, filling Daisy up as they both go limp, clutching onto each other and panting heavily.

“I think I like you,” Billy mumbles against her temple after a beat, his thick fingers squeezing her bum.

Daisy giggles and rubs her face against his, “Good. ‘Cause you’re stuck with me.”

“I like being stuck to you,” he replies easily, thrusts his hips up weakly for emphasis but Daisy can feel him softening quickly inside of her and she has to push away the insecurity that brings. They literally just had sex, she knows she’s being dramatic. Billy spanks her butt softly and says, “How’s about you go start us a shower. I’m gonna throw these sheets in the wash.”

“Whatever you want, daddy,” she kisses his cheek before lifting herself off of him. She feels his cum leaking down her thighs as she walks to the bathroom, leaning into the shower to turn the faucet on. Waits a bit with her fingers under the stream to feel the temperature before she sits on the toilet, using toilet paper to wipe up the mess on her thighs as she waits for the rest of it to drip out.

By the time Billy makes his way into the bathroom, Daisy’s under the spray of the shower. He strips and enters behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. Lips against her ear he asks, “So what do you think? It ain’t so bad here, yeah?”

“So far,” she teases, turning to catch his lips in a kiss. One that turns heated quickly and Billy pulls away laughing.

“My dicks gonna fall off at the rate we keep going,” he tells her.

“Ooh, wouldn’t want that. It’s one of your best assets,” Daisy replies and turns back towards the spray of water, wetting her hair and then switching spots with Billy so he can wet his. She reaches for the shampoo, squirting a bit in her palm before setting it back down and lathering her hair up.

“Speaking of that… you on the pill?” Billy asks, eyes closed under the water.

Yeah… about that.

“No,” she says softly.

“Well, shit,” he huffs as they swap places.

As Daisy rinses out her hair, she offers, “The trailer is three bedrooms…”

“Should we really jump into having kids, though?”

“You don’t want kids?” Daisy asks, watching as Billy thoroughly shampoos his hair. They swap again.

“Hadn’t ever really thought about it,” he says, eyes closed again as he rinses. Daisy’s eyes wander down his chest and stomach. She thinks he’d look really cute with his belly button pierced. “I mean, I’m open to it, but that’s moving pretty damn fast.”

“We’re married.”

Billy opens one eye to look at Daisy. He smiles though. Finishes washing his hair out and again they swap.

“I think I should buy some condoms,” he says as he coats his curly ends with a conditioner and then reaches for the body wash.

“I hate condoms,” Daisy whines, “they smell so bad and they’re just icky.”

Billy cackles at that, starts lathering Daisy up in body wash when he says, “You sound like a man.”

“Oh and you love them?” Daisy raises an eyebrow.

“God, no,” Billy makes a face of disgust but steadies it quick, “We just… probably should be safe. For now, at least. I mean, fuck, Daisy, we don’t even know each other.”

Daisy swaps places with him, runs her hands up and down his chiseled body and says in a seductive tone, “I know I can’t ever give up this gorgeous body.”

“We should make sure this’ll stick before we go making babies,” Billy tells her.

“And how do you suppose we do that?”

“Get to know each other. We’re starting tonight. I’m taking you out,” Billy smiles all big and pretty at her.

[cagesofgold]

eren jaeger headcanons <3

🎵teenage fever - Drake 🎧

His favorite way to unwind is to play with your hair. Due to having longer hair himself he’s grown accustomed to the different skill sets required to craft different hair styles, and actually, is really good at it. His fingers are lithe and nimble and are able to weave through strands with ease.

He drives an all black car with tinted windows, and has a polaroid of you in a photo booth with him on your first date in a plastic case hanging from his rear view mirror.

he also always makes sure to keep your favorite snacks in the car, as he’s a guy who’s bound to text you at 2am asking bout some “you up for a drive?” 💀

in terms of tattoos despite popular belief, i personally think he’d keep it on the minimal side. He’d maybe have some on his arms - or a sleeve, but he likes to keep them tidy. Although, he is one of those guys that would have that tiktok thirst trap spider on his chest or adjacent to his v line…..

this mf smells gooooood, he’s so paranoid about smelling bad because of Jean saying he smelt like a burning pile of bodies in high school and hasn’t been able to shake the fear since.

despite not being overly adorned in tattoos he does like piercings. He’s got about five on his ears and has a nose piercing but he always forgets about it.

loves reality shows. A few months into your relationship he noticed you watching them and acted with his full chest that he had no interest, yet as the weeks rolled by he somehow got closer and closer to the couch and before you knew it he was fully shouting over Lisa Rinna. (You’ve also seen him following over 30 housewives from the different shows on instagram…)

cannot stand metal music because he spent his entire childhood covering his ears from where it bled from under Mikasa’s door. (Otherwise he’d probably enjoy it)

he’d dress quite simply, mainly with blacks and whites and would sometimes mix and match with some red or green, but i don’t think he’s as ambitious as some of his friends fashion wise, but he still looks good as hell.

his favorite holiday is with out a doubt halloween, is some of this because he spent so long as a child building the most elaborate scares for the kids on his street? maybe. but he also likes autumn as a season so that has something to do with it.

doesn’t get along with his dad too well but is a total mamas boy. He visits her at least twice a month considering they live in different cities.

is a cat person, but when he was younger he liked dogs more as according to him they were “much radder” - his own words 💀, but as he got older and became more subdued he developed a preference for cats.

has anxiety that he manages to hide, he wasn’t used to being comforted and it took a while for him to fully open up to you.

despite smoking weed with Jean and connie almost every other day he still makes a dramatic scene any time Zeke lights a cigarette around him, i’m talking coughing and clutching his chest, Zeke’s standing there like this 🧍‍♀️waiting for him to stop his fucking shenanigans.

if you want to go out with Eren Jaeger prepare to be a victim of the sassy man apocalypse, because my god, this man is relentless, and the SIDE EYE on this mf is ridiculous. He could knock down an army with his sass alone.

takes good care of his hair, oils it twice a week and does hair masks in order to keep it soft and shiny. He can’t have his gorgeous girl going out with some guy with brittle, greasy ass hair…

goes to the gym but doesn’t like it very much. he goes most days for at least an hour but never posts gym pics on his instagram or anything, he just has no interest apart from maintaining his body.

cannot sleep without you. he can try, sure, but he’ll never be successful. Before you both decided to move in together he was at your house every night, nuzzled against your body with light breaths slipping from his lips, which sparked the conversation, why not just move in, you’re here everyday anyway?

tends to bottle things up, and if something is bothering him you will have to work it out of him slowly…but he’s trying, for you he’s trying.

his lock screen is a photo of you asleep against his chest, he just thought you looked so peaceful.

gets embarrassingly competitive in just dance, threw a Wii at Connie once because he made him lose a perfect score on timber.

finally, he loves stargazing, especially with you. He’ll take you out to a deserted street, a bag full of snacks and a joint as you both lay on the hood of his car, chatting about whatever comes to mind, and it’s at those moments, when his eyes focus on the slope of your nose and the shape of your mouth, that he feels a warmth inside him he’s never felt before. <3

[harfanfare]

Idia drabble, fluff, female reader! ♡

You know you’re in for a losing game when you have to ask AI chat to help you with date ideas.

Idia outrightly rejected places that statistically—he pulled up an unnecessary chart, to prove you—had many people visiting at every time of the year. Maybe for some exceptions for ungodly hours, but, while he really loves you, he would rather relax with you in a bed with a silly game on than wake up at 3 am to, whatever, go to the planetarium and stare at the cosmos.

And, we might do it in VR, either way, he argues with your every suggestion.

“Well,” you persist, glancing from the screen at Idia whose attention is divided between you with your half-hearted pleadings, and his game character who clears another villain camp with slashes of a grand sword and sharp arrows. “Can’t we get something to eat, then?”

“Instant soups are irreplaceable.”

“That’s why we should eat something else to confirm their superiority over other goods once again,” you lick your lips to hide a subtle smile as Idia grins at your debating point. It’s an unreasonable argument, yet you have known your boyfriend for long enough to know that these ones are the most convincing when you are out of ideas. “Like, churros maybe? Or those fine-looking cupcakes.”

“They have too much crème and are too heavy in taste. Have you ever tried one? They are like dry cake and sugar but with a fancy texture. Sooo unhealthy, mm.”

He says it as the bag that was filled with candy this morning, falls soundly from the desk. Idia was never one to say no to sweets, but only to the ones that suit his specific tastes: then, even the most logical reasons to eat healthier don’t come in handy. If it wasn’t for Ortho, and now you, he would’ve probably died from the excess of sugar from that sweet and sour gummy candy he loves.

You collect the bag before the little cleaning robot can ever reach it, and on the way to the trashcan, you bonk an empty plastic bottle on your boyfriend’s head. He should instil in himself some want of keeping his room tidy.

“So, the cafes are no-go?”

“Yeah.”

You take a seat again next to Idia and scroll down through the list of generated date ideas.

“Even the cat cafes?”

Idia opens his mouth to protest but finds that he can’t bring himself to do so. The silence is long enough that you stop reading the AI suggestions and lift your gaze up to Idia.

That’s the pause you’ve been waiting for.

“Then, it’s decided!” You clasp your hands together, and beam at Idia as he sighs at you. “I should have known that the virtual cats could never replace the real ones.”

Your boyfriend remains silent. The awkward expression he makes as two different parts of himself battle each other is entrancing; should he go mingle with other people to go to the cafe, or he will be better off remaining adamant about his vow of not going out anywhere? The fact he doesn’t roast you over this suggestion, makes it look like the former stance was a bit more appealing.

“Then I shall put them on your ultimate weakness list,” you say cheerily, getting giddy over Idia being wordless. It’s such a rare sight since he’s got used to the little acts of intimacy. Though you loved his stutters and furious blushes, the banter and suave smiles are welcome as well, of course. You can’t help but move closer to him and give him a peck on his lips. The single strands of his hair light up to pink, and you smile. “I am gathering an intel on you.”

Idia blinks and lays back in his chair, his game paused for a second. You know that gesture too well; in idianese it’s a sign that he changed his mindset to “it is what it is”, and decided that the worst case scenario might still be worth going to the cat cafe. In a fit of new resolution, his playful wryness returns in a heartbeat.

“Heh, yeah? It’s very wise of you to do so. How much data have you gathered already?”

You open a notebook app on your phone.

“Well, as I started putting it up just five seconds ago, there are… people… and me… And now cats,” you list out loud as you quickly type things into your phone. The basic font and too big characters make the list look like some kind of meme, which, in a way, it is. “And me, again.”

Idia snorts. “Basic info. Weak.”

“I could prepare your character profile. I know more of your strengths than weaknesses,” You say, and make a mental note to do a powerpoint presentation on Idia, this time with fewer memes and more candid photos of him. “But it's still enough to have you go on a date with me!”

He sighs again. Idia likes to make show off how much trouble he has to go through for you, but you don’t miss how his eyes light up, even if he rolls his eyes.

“I guess we can go for one short date there,” he tells you slowly, and before you believe once again that you have the magic privilege of a girlfriend, he throws a comment that quenches the flames of your self-satisfaction. “You are the one ordering, though.”

…No. Your fellow introvert won’t be dumping the trial of courage solely on you.

“Let’s take turns.”

“Offer rejected.”

“Let’s bring Ortho.”

“Offer accepted,” he lifts his hand as if he demands a pause in a game. “…But don’t you mind bringing my brother on a date?”

“It will be a “hangout” then. At least, until Ortho decides that we are too cringe and dumps us in the middle, then it’ll turn its status to a date.”

“Will he?” Idia ponders, but then his eyes land on you, and he smiles knowingly. “Oh yeah, he will. He might have implemented himself a module to go away if our cringe stat will rise over sixty per cent.”

“That’s a generous amount of cringe we can spread.”

“With you, I think it should be doubled.”

“Thanks, I love you too.”

“You’re welcome.”

[ohnococo]

The Way To A Man’s Heart | Nanami x GN!Reader

You have a surprise for Nanami: a specially packed bento.

WC: 642 // SFW

You’re more nervous than you have any right to be. You can cook, and the little things you were packing away into the glossy wooden bento box on your counter were nothing too complicated. The presentation was maybe the most difficult part of it all, but you’d persisted nonetheless, and now you were sitting with a little bit of pride bubbling forth as you close the box and run your hand over the top.

But those nerves are at a rolling boil, eclipsing that pride, as you hear Nanami opening the door of your shared bedroom and padding down the hallway towards you.

“Why are you up so early?”

You turn to look at him, side-stepping so the freshly packed box is hidden behind you, and smile as you look at him. He rarely left the bedroom in such a state of disarray, always visiting the en-suite bathroom to tidy himself up first thing after waking, but with his mussed hair and one leg of his pyjamas bunched up high on his calf he’d clearly been concerned to not find you in your usual spot beside him in bed. 

“Just taking care of something.”

Such an answer would normally be enough for your partner, content to let you have your business to yourself when needed, but he hears the uncharacteristic jitter in your voice and comes closer, resting his hands on your waist and pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Something worrying?”

Before you can answer, his eyes lock onto the bento box over your shoulder, raising his brows curiously, “Is this that something?”

It was, and it was very much not being presented as the surprise you were hoping for. Nanami loved his food, with a thorough mental list of all of the nicest places in any areas he was frequently sent to for missions, having to rely on quick meals out instead of anything home cooked. He had particular tastes though, a discerning judge who would without mercy comment on a restaurant’s quality. You wanted it to be perfect, a home meal to ease his mind and send him along for the rest of his stressful day with a light heart and happy stomach. 

You also wanted him to enjoy it when you weren’t there to see in case it wasn’t up to his high standards. 

He’d seen it now though, quirking a brow as he gently moves you aside to look at it properly.

“I thought I’d pack you lunch… in case you didn’t have time to get yourself something.”

“Oh?” 

Even in the dim lighting of the kitchen, sun only just rising, you think you see the beginnings of a blush spreading across his cheeks. He places a hand on the lid, looking to you before he goes further, “May I?”

You shrug and nod, cat already out of the proverbial bag. 

He opens it, noting the contents fondly, leaning down and closing his eyes as he smells the small portion of stir fried marinated vegetables carefully separated from the small bun you’d secretly baked the previous evening after he was in bed. He even smiles as he looks at the selection of carefully cut fruits in their own separate compartments. 

He straightens, closing the box. Then he turns, beaming down at you as he places a crooked finger under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his eyes.

“You take such good care of me, darling.” His words are barely above a whisper, though they still manage to absolutely sparkle as they come from his lips. 

Nanami leans in, eyes soft and appreciative, looking absolutely dreamy before he brushes his lips against yours so gently it’s as if he’s only barely touched you. “Thank you…”

Then, he’s pulling back, and clearing his throat. “Now let me brush my teeth so I can kiss you properly.”

[hellsslibrary]

✧･ﾟ:* NSFW Alphabet with Cater Diamond *:･ﾟ✧

DNI : minors.

!!Warnings : sub!bottom!Cater, phone recording, sex with multiple caters(?), oral sex, sex toys, strangulation kink, teasing, male reader.

Deuce <————«« Cater »»————> Trey

Heartslabyul. Cater Diamond.

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex?)

Sorry, but he definitely takes a photo (not your naked bodies, yes, but his disheveled hair and a fucked up, tired face). He does not post them anywhere (well, if you agree, he will post them, lol). But otherwise, after sex, he is still energetic as always. So if you want something, he is happy for it! Although he will definitely pull you both into the shower, because he does not like to be sweaty.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves everything about you, like really everything. He finds you absolutely beautiful from any angle and in any place. But if he had to choose, then it would be your palms (later you will understand why :)).

In himself, he adores his face, obviously. His handsome face that tears down while you fuck him roughly or overexcite/postpone his orgasm. Or one that is in a blissful expression while you both fuck at a gentle pace. Doesn't matter. His face is his pride.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

The most common sperm, yes. The only difference is that it is slightly saltier than normal semen, simply because he doesn't eat much sweets, and its taste depends on the person's diet.

Cater loves when you cum all over him. It doesn't matter where. On his belly, thighs, butt, face. He just loves the feeling of having your cum run down him.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to record homemade porn with you. Yes. And probably, someday he will still offer it. Although this is exactly what he does not want to spread anywhere, he just wants to see how your sex looks from the outside and maybe use this someday to satisfy himself. How your bodies move, on his own expression, how your cock moves in him.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

He's... Very knowledgeable, but he's probably a virgin (at least in his asshole for sure). He knows a lot, a lot, but he has never tried it himself. Although he may have a few short flings with some ladies.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Cat pose (click there to see what it is). He just loves the close contact of your bodies being so close to each other during this and how fluid your movements become in this position.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He... Likes to joke, yes. Although he will not arrange a circus, but he will definitely joke. Boring sex is not his thing. He will definitely make you laugh or smile at least once during this.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He is very tidy and keeps everything clean. He shaves them, yes. Just because he doesn't like how messy the hair looks there. And the color of the carpet matches his drapes. They are same orange color, but perhaps a little darker.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Very romantic. Definitely will whisper anything in your ear or scream it during an orgasm. He will hug you, kiss you, praise you, your dick, whatever. And will definitely try some clichéd scene from some crappy romantic movie (Hope not "50 Shades of Grey", lol).

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He does it often, yes. He just loves this business and is not at all shy about it. He jerks off at least 3-4 times a week. And it may or may not be recording a photo or video for you, sending it to you, thereby teasing you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Oh, he loves choking. I can't get rid of the thought, but I think he enjoys it when you squeeze his neck, fucking him senseless, and how your palms tense up. He also loves... Seduction (there is such a kink, I checked). He enjoys the process of seducing you. He definitely has a list where he writes down what you like best and teases you like that.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere. He is not one of the shy boys. Although he didn't want you to fuck in front of someone in real life, but if you're into something like that, then Onlyfans is for you (Magicfans(?)).

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Mmm, to be honest, it doesn't start too fast, surprisingly. And this is quite difficult to do. But he is seduced by direct contact. Hug/stroke/kiss/squeeze/grope. It doesn't matter, just do it right and in sufficient quantities and it's yours.

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

He... A very open boy. Kind of true. He is ready to try absolutely everything at least once. Although if you don’t like this, then of course he will not insist. But if you want to try something, then he is completely for this idea!

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Definitely give. I think he has a very skillful tongue. So he loves to please you, and I guess he doesn't have a gag reflex either, so enjoy him to the fullest. Although he is more likely to tease you too slowly or dangerously close to your most sensitive parts.

And, of course, also likes to receive. Well, what could be better than your boyfriend's tongue and mouth on your most sensitive spots? And maybe teeth, if you want to tease him back.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Well... I'm not sure about that, but I'm guessing a slow but rough pace? Like slow, but deep thrusts right into his favorite, most sensitive points, from which he simply writhes with pleasure, grabbing at anything.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Yes, he loves this. Although his preference is still for casual sex where you can enjoy each other for hours, he still doesn't mind having a quick sex if you or he suddenly wants it.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He is definitely yes. It is quite risky and experimental. He is ready for anything, for what you want, you just have to ask. Although, of course, he is not a superman and he will not repeat something too risky and extreme, of course.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

A lot, I think. He loves long sex and loves milking you dry. So around 7-12, I guess. And to bring him to overstimulation, and even more so to dry orgasm, you will need a ton of energy and endurance from you. So many.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Yes, he has a lot of sex toys. True a lot. Especially those that have the ability to control remotely, such as vibrators, dildos and other things. But he also has enough of everything else from some ordinary ropes and handcuffs to sticks for sounding. And he's willing to use it anytime, whether on him or on you (but I think he's more of a sub, so he prefers you use it on him, obviously).

U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease)

He loves. He loves to run his hands over your body, stroking your sensitive parts, he loves to rub on you in public, he loves to send you some erotic photos, videos or voice messages, he loves anything if it's enough to tease you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

It's changeable. He can moan with great volume, and maybe even scream with pleasure. But other times he can be very quiet and just make little noises and sighs, I guess it just depends on what kind of sex you're having.

W = Wild Card (Get a random head canon for the character of your choice

Um... His signature spell. Imagine that you will be satisfied by several Caters at once. Any place you can imagine. And in any way you can imagine. I will not go into details, because everyone has their own erogenous zones, but just imagine.

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)

Well. He's quite skinny, he's got muscles here and there, but he's still very slender (although weird headcanon time, I think he has a pumped up ass, lol). His dick is about 4-5 inches / 10-13 cm. But he is very thick in girth.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Above average, definitely. He loves to fuck with you and he will fuck with you. Although he is not a sex monster, of course, he still wants to have sex quite often.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fell asleep afterwards)

He won't sleep if you haven't had sex at night or late in the evening. He doesn't get tired after sex (unless it's some kind of overstimulation session), so he's very energetic anyway! But if it is night or late evening, then his biological clock will work for him and he will want to sleep.

[mapis-putellas]

What we left behind.

Pairings: Natasha x you

Words: 2053

Warnings: talk of death. Vormir. Guns

Summary: Natasha was gone. At least, that's what you'd been told. She’d sacrificed herself; died to save everyone else, to bring back her family. If that was really the case, then who was at your front door?

The familiar sensation of a tear streaming down the side of your face breaks you from your thoughts as you stare up at the whirring blades of the fan. The wetness tickles your skin, but you couldn’t quite find it in you to wipe it away.

It had been nearly six months now since you’d lost your girlfriend, and that same old numbness still remains. It sits heavily on your chest like a blanket, except, this blanket wasn’t at all comforting. It was suffocating; restricting every single movement you make like a straight jacket.

The only thing you seem to know how to do anymore is cry, and even then they were pitiful tears, barely enough to warrant actual cries. It was almost as though you’d cried so much that all of your tears had simply run out. You’d all dried up.

Your eyes flicker almost subconsciously around the room. The only light came from a slit between the curtains at the window, the feeble brightness barely enough for you to make out anything other than the fine dust littering every surface. The sight of it brings you back to the last time you’d cleaned. It was over five months ago low, the day Natasha was supposed to come home.

Through the blip, neither you or Natasha had managed to find it in you to really keep your shared apartment tidy. You didn’t see the point, and Natasha just simply didn’t have the time. She was too busy with being team leader to what was left of the avengers.

But that had all changed when the plan of her going to vormir with Clint was put into action. She’d bring Yelena back with her, her mom and dad, and you’d share the first dinner in over five years with your girlfriend and family.

But then Clint had arrived back alone with the soul stone in hand, and a deep sense of unease had held you rigid until he’d shaken his head telling you she wasn’t coming back. That was when your whole world had fallen apart right in front of you.

You remember not being able to breath. You remember crying so hard you had physically made yourself sick. You remember the arms that had tried to wrap around you, and you remembered pushing them away in disgust. They weren’t Natasha’s arms. They weren’t allowed to touch you.

You remember leaving the compound and making your way back home to the empty, clean apartment you’d spent so long making perfect for her.

You remember the feeling of dread that had settled unceremoniously into your stomach. It remains there to this day as a constant reminder of what you’d lost. You remember everything about that day so vividly you want to erase it from your mind forever.

But you couldn’t.

Natasha was gone. She’d made her choice, and now you had to find a way to live with it no matter how badly it hurt to try.

*

And try you did. You woke up everyday despite never wanting to be conscious again. You went to work and pretended like seeing everyone was a blessing when in actual fact they brought you pain. You even managed to befriend Yelena, one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do.

She was a constant reminder of Natasha, and it was hard to differentiate the two in your deep stage of grief. You were sure you weren’t easy to be around for her either, but together you somehow managed to level one another out. It wasn’t perfect, and most days you fought like cats and dogs, but you were all each other had so you’d learnt to make it work.

It was on a normal Tuesday did all of that change.

There was a knock at your front door, the strength behind it both hesitant and wary. That, and the fact you weren’t expecting anyone raises the fine hairs on the back of her neck, and as grab your gun from it’s place in the locked drawer, you try your best to shake of the fear that had suddenly begun to run though you. Safety off and finger on the trigger, you reach forward and grasp the door handle before cautiously pulling open the door.

Absolutely nothing could have prepared you for the sight that greets you on the other side. You stand there, body rigid; trembling in complete and utter terror as your eyes burn with the familiar sensation of tears. It was her face. Her hair. Her clothes, her body. But it couldn’t be. She was dead. She died.

This wasn’t her, no matter how badly you wanted it to be.

An immediate feeling of dread creeps up from the pit of your stomach, and your pulse beats in your ears so loudly it blocks out all other sound. You go to raise your gun; because how dare this person torture you by pretending to be the love of your life -but raised hands promptly stop you in your tracks. You look at her, eyes wet with unshed tears desperate to fall.

She eyes you cautiously as she takes a small step closer, hands still either side of her head. “It’s me.” She seems to desperately plead, and at the sound of her voice, you feel the tightness in your throat grow a tenfold. It was her voice. This person had her voice too.

You try to say something; anything, but when you open your mouth, you come to find that even words had deserted you. It leaves you to release a choked sob despite your best efforts to stifle it, and you press your lips together in a futile attempt to prevent another from escaping as you tighten your grasp around the gun.

Your hands were noticeably trembling and unsteady, but the implication was there. You weren’t afraid to pull the trigger, and this person had to know that.

“P-prove it.” You somehow manage to choke out, and she nods, her throat bobbing as she looks away for just a second before speaking. You hate that your stomach clenches at the sight of the tears in her eyes.

Natasha used to show her emotions so rarely that each time she even came close to shedding a tear it would break your heart.

“We met just after my defection to shield. We didn’t like each other at first, because you thought I was too stubborn and hardheaded and I thought you were a self centred know it all.” She starts, and you hate the hope that begins to build in your stomach.

You were forced to remind yourself that this wasn’t hidden information. If you were around back then, you would know that Natasha and yourself never used to get along.

She seems to know this, because after a short moment, she continues. “You hate chocolate. The one time I got it for you for Valentine’s Day you waited until I was out of sight to give it to Peter. You hate the movie Up because it makes you cry. My sweater, the black one with the zip is your favourite because it’s oversized and smells like me. You…you used to wear it when I went on missions because it made you feel close. You used to sleep on my side of the bed when I wasn’t there because my pillow smells like my perfume,” she chuckles slightly as she uses one of her raised hands to wipe away the single tear that manages to spill down her cheek.

By now, you could feel your guard beginning to drop. Nobody knew this stuff. Nobody but Natasha. But it couldn’t be her. She was gone. It was a soul for a soul and she was the sacrifice. There was no other choice. She was dead. She was gone…wasn’t she?

“You think coffee is gross,” she continues, seemingly under the impression that you still weren’t convinced. “But you still kiss me even when I drink it. You call it the ultimate sacrifice.” At that part, your lips quirk up at the corners. It was an inside joke when you’d first gotten together. She’d make fun if you for not liking coffee and you’d kiss her just to shut her up.

“It’s our five year anniversary in two months. I was going to propose. I bought the ring and it’s in my underwear drawer underneath my socks. I wanted to spent the rest of my life with you, but then thanos…”

You drop the gun to the floor with a loud clatter and all but throw yourself against her body. Hesitant arms move from their raised position to settle gently around your waist, and you feel the tip of her cold nose nudge against the skin of your neck as she pulls you close to her.

“It’s you,” you choke out as you tightly fist the material of her jacket in your hands. You feel her nod against you, her hands fighting to grab purchase of any part of your body they could. She was shaking almost violently in your hold, whether that be from the cold or something else entirely. It forces you to tighten your grip around her, your hand rising to cup the back of her head.

“It’s me.” She whispers, voice trembling with emotion, “it’s me.”

*

You don’t know how long you remain in the threshold of the front door holding on to one another. It could have been seconds. Minutes. Hours. All you knew is that you never wanted to let go.

You never thought you’d get to hold her again. Feel the weight of her body in your arms and take in her intoxicating smell that had once brought you so much comfort. She was everything and you wanted to remain in this moment, right here, right now, for the rest of your life.

“Let’s…” you swallow heavily as you reluctantly pull her away from you and bring your hands up to cup her cheeks. Your thumb trails softly over the skin; just as soft as you remembered despite the tears staining it. “Let’s go inside, okay?” You whisper with a tender smile, and Natasha nods as she gently grasps your wrists in her hands.

Her wary eyes flicker down to your lips, and your smile becomes a little more genuine as you lean forward and place them tenderly against her own. They were warm, and soft; a feeling you’d missed dearly.

She gasps softly at the sensation of your lips against her own as her hands move from your wrists and down your back until they come to rest on either side of your waist. Her touch litters your skin with goosebumps, the caress of her hands on you for the first time in months an indescribable feeling.

Her bottom lip slots perfectly in between your own, an action that lingers as you trace the tip of your thumb over her jawline before reluctantly pulling away and resting her forehead against her own.

Her soft breath hits your lips as she clings to the shirt either side of your waist, and you feel your eyes fill with tears all over again as you pull her body into your own before closing the door behind her. Now that you were encased in the privacy of your own home, you watch as Natasha finally allows herself to break.

It starts off small. Quiet, hitched breaths as her unfocused eyes fill with tears. But then slowly, gradually, it gets bigger. Her chest heaves, her breathing intensifies, and she lets out a loud, unstifled sob as she falls defeatedly into your arms. Your own bottom lip trembles as you pull her body flush against your own, hands slipping beneath her jacket to desperately clutch at her shirt.

You were desperate to feel her skin against your own.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay.” You attempt to sooth, knowing no words would ever be good enough but desperate to try. “You’re back. You’re safe, and I love you. More than you could ever imagine.”

**

Part 2?

@goldenempyrean @mywitchy-assassin @romanoffsbish

[vivantesopvles]

They meet again between life and death, in a place called the Limbo. 

This time, Harry does not wake up in the pure-white King’s Cross he so often revisits in his memory. He’s back at the Dursleys’, locked inside his cupboard again. And someone’s banging hard on the door.

No, he thinks in despair. Not Uncle Vernon. 

‘Open up!’ But the voice is too high to be his uncle’s, Harry dimly notes; and the accent way too rough to be Dudley’s either. ‘We’re running out of time!’

‘Door’s locked from the outside,’ Harry says wearily. ‘Who’s there?’

‘Use your magic, you daft mug. And it’s Riddle you’re speaking to.’

The lever is met with resistance when Harry turns the handle. But Riddle’s right. Harry pushes his magic through the keyhole – Alohomora – and the lock clicks open.

Riddle is eleven, and so is Harry now, it seems. He takes a look at Harry – a dead spider caught on his shoulder, his too-large t-shirt full of holes – and curls his lips with derision.

‘So that’s how you’ve been using your magic?’ 

Harry ignores him. He leads the way out onto the empty street. As they walk past the trimmed hedges and boring gardens, Riddle tries to get him to talk again. ‘A wizard called Dumbledore says I should find you, says you know the way,’ he prompts. 

‘Did he?’ Harry is briefly taken aback. ‘Where to?’

‘To the new place, of course.’ Riddle shoots him a dubious glance. ‘You’d better not be giving me the runaround.’

‘I’m not,’ Harry says, wondering why Dumbledore still enjoys complicating matters this much, even in death. ‘In any case if we’re going anywhere, I think we ought to head over to King’s Cross Station first …’

‘King’s Cross? That’s in London, that’s where I come from,’ Riddle exclaims. 

As if fuelled by the information, he grabs Harry by the wrist and begins to sprint down the street; all the while, he talks and talks.

‘… and I grew up in Whitechapel. Wool’s Orphanage, if you must know. A soft touch like you wouldn’t have lasted a day there, Harry.’ 

Harry shakes his head, exasperated. It has just occurred to him that they needn’t run at all. It’s the Limbo; they could probably teleport themselves wherever they liked. But they’re going so fast now it’s all Harry can focus his mind on: the speed, the wind in his hair and Riddle, his small, cold hand holding Harry’s. 

It’s almost like flying. Harry can feel himself becoming lighter with each step forward, with each memory left behind. He forgets his own death – the second one … then the first – he forgets the horrors of the war and the people he lost.  

Around them, the tidy suburban streets of Surrey blur, blend, into the cobblestoned confusion that is the East End, which Riddle navigates with the elegance of an alley cat.

‘We’re almost there,’ he says, before immediately launching into another one of his dark anecdotes about the exorcist whom he’d named his archnemesis since he was six. 

Harry’s usually put off by gobby people, but somehow Riddle is growing on him. Maybe it's because Riddle's actually quite hilarious. Maybe it’s because of his endless energy; how vital and unapologetic he still is after being told that there’s something wrong with him his whole life. 

‘I’d like to come here again sometime,’ Harry says as they outrun the old warehouses and backstreets; the red brick lanes and ivy-clad walls. ‘With you. On the other side.’

At that Riddle’s face breaks into a wide smile, a genuine one. ‘On the other side,’ he agrees, a wicked glint in his eyes. ‘Why not? I’ll show you around.’

Later, at the white platform where a train stands waiting for them, Harry finds a one-way ticket in his front pocket. On it says: 01 - SEP - 1938.

21052024 | @microficmay | life & death