#which is sometimes a little all over the place for me

[classyrbf]

THAT D!CK IS A 10/10! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...an analysis on the jjk men’s dicks just because hehe :)

INFO...jjk men x gn!reader, we’re talking about cock and balls a lot (no seriously), cum analysis, where they like to cum, heavy detail (be warned), im trying to make this a little realistic so no, gojo will not have a 12 inch dick (sorry not sorry), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

here’s a little something while I’m being a busy bee and dealing with life (help me)

GOJO

to start off, gojo isn’t too big or isn’t small either, if anything he’s just perfect (cause he is perfect duh). He’s around 3 inches soft and 6.6 inches hard. Listen, as much as I want to make this man have the hugest dick ever, he does not and it’d cause an extreme amount of pain every time he is pounding you. He’s not too girthy either, just the average 4.3. His also slightly curves upward which is perfect for hitting your sweet spot. But he’s super sensitive on the tip! So if you tease him too much there he might just cum prematurely. His balls are definitely a decent size too, they may be on the bigger side a little but he loves to have his balls played with so have fun! When gojo cums, he cums a lot! It literally will go all over the place if he can’t control it correctly. It’s spurts out in waves and it sometimes it’s like torture cause it makes his orgasms last longer but god does it feel so good. His cum is sort of thin and runny instead of thick and goopy with a slight salty taste.

NANAMI

i personally feel like nanami is fucking packing girth wise! He is slightly smaller than gojo around like 5.75-6 inches but he is fucking girthy! It’s like a damn weapon and it’s heavy (I’ll help you carry it around nanami, don’t you worry). His girth is around 5.5-6 inches and it’s veiny! Lord help us all because he knows how to use that thing, hitting all the right angles. From being so girthy his cock slightly hangs…So what comes with a fat cock? Big breeder balls! Duh! His balls are so fat and big it’s like an instinct to suck and lick on them. He leaks a lot of precum when he’s hard so it just drips from his cock until he cums so hard. Speaking of cum, unlike gojo he has more of a thicker consistency, and instead of spurting out all over, it just flows from his cock and it’s looks so pretty like a fountain. It drips all down his cock and balls and onto his hand if he’s jerking himself off. When he’s fucking you, he definitely cums inside and just fucks his cum into you over and over until he makes a big mess.

TOJI

my man, my man, my man! Toji is definitely bigger than nanami and gojo but only by like 1-2 inches. So he’s around 7 inches which is still scary bc why are just walking around with that? He’s definitely girthy too but not like nanami, he’s more girthy around the tip of his cock and it gets slightly smaller towards the base but it’s not a huge difference. He’s tip gets really pink and red when he’s hard that it almost looks painful (don’t worry baby I’m on my way to help) but I promise he’s fine. Dare I say that doesn’t trim that often???? I feel like he has a slightly bush, nothing too crazy but it’s kind of grown out. He doesn’t care (me neither) as long as he gets laid he’s fine. His balls are mix of nanami and gojos but they hang! So when he’s fucking you they definitely slap against your skin. When toji cums it’s pretty normal, it’s sometimes shoots out a little bit and then slows down after, but it’s definitely a good amount of cum that does come out quickly. He loves to see your face or your chest covered in it because he’s a pervy little bastard for sure.

GETO

pretty boy geto hehe…let’s just say that thing curves to the left okay? He’s around 6.5-7 inches and girthy so let’s pray for everyone’s holes cause I don’t think we are making it out alive. He’s somewhere between nanami’s and Toji’s girth so…do what you will with that info. His dick is so pretty though, a pretty dick for a pretty face, the curtains match the drapes yk? He has two prominent veins that run on the underside of his dick where he’s really sensitive. If you look closely you’ll see them pulsing when he’s hard. His tip is also a very pretty pink color while his shaft and base are slightly darker than his skin tone. His balls aren’t too big either so it’s definitely more about his dick. He doesn’t cum a lot either surprisingly, he’s never been the cum everywhere and get super messy type of person but if hasnt had sex or jerked off it’ll be more than usual.

CHOSO

choso is closer to nanamis size, maybe a little smaller but not a huge difference. His is pretty average but there is nothing wrong with that (can I get free ride???). Just like geto he also has a very pink tip and his shaft is the same color as his skin. His girth is around Gojo’s but he has some big balls that are just asking to licked and sucked fr. Baby boy gets so whiny when he’s hard and leaking that he’s almost embarrassed by it, he tries to control it but he literally can’t stop getting so hard to point it drives him insane. His cum is stringy and thick, like the perfect consistency for cumming on your face, chest, ass, literally anywhere. He cums a normal amount, usually spurts out super quickly and then slows down towards the end of his orgasm.

SUKUNA

where do I even begin??? Clearly, this mf is the biggest out of all of them. He’s scary asf because he has two, yes, two dicks that are practically identical. 8-9 inches long, 4.7 girth. End my life. THIS MF GOT 4 LEGS. It’s actually cruel. They’re thicker towards the base and gradually get narrow towards the tip. So at first, the stretch doesn’t seem that bad until you realize you got about 7 inches more to go…yeah. His cocks are darker than the rest of his body and his tips are sort of like a light pink/tan color. The only difference between his cocks is that one is super veiny and the other quite literally has like 3 veins. Fat breeder balls that hang, swing, touch the floor (I’m jk) but literally the mix of toji and nanamis balls. They hold so much cum, he can literally go round for round back to back and fill up every hole of yours without taking a break. And he cums so much that it’s actually concerning. Like nanami, its overflows maybe once in a while it will shoot out.

HIGURUMA

believe it or not I think this man is packing at least 7-8 inches. It may not look like it but I think he does! He never brags about it either so it’s really hard to guess. When he’s hard his dick touches his belly button…and his balls are somewhere between Geto’s and Gojo’s size so they’re kinda average. The color is slightly tan maybe like one shade darker and he has a pale pink tip. Did I mention he has a fat tip?? It seems like it gets even bigger when he’s hard, all swollen and everything. His girth is pretty average too like Gojo’s maybe slightly bigger like 4.5 but that’s it. Higuruma doesn’t cum that much it like toji where it’s a pretty normal amount. His cum isn’t super white either, it’s kind of on the clear side and super stringy which is perfect for cumming on your tongue imo

[hyba]

Thanks for this addition!!!!! 100% agree with you with regards to how important tension is to horror; it's practically 90% of the story sometimes haha. I also thought that eliminating the threat of a 'bad ending' and giving the reader that confidence that all would be resolved and the protagonists/characters will be alright in the end, might make horror more of a cozy experience.

I was actually talking to someone today and brought up how maybe liminal space horror could also be cozy horror to an extent? Not the kind with a full-on monster stalking you I guess, but just the idea of being stuck in a liminal space setting and trying to escape. Some games have done this in such a way that you're exploring these spaces, and they're scary and unsettling, but at least you know that nothing's going to jump out at you; no monster truly lurks beneath the water, or in the dark shadows. It's all just unsettling but harmless. And at some point you can (hopefully) find your way out and not walk the 'backrooms' forever. High stakes, no real danger.

(So, like you said, the feeling of safety is I think a critical element - but that brings me back to the idea of fiction being fiction, and doesn't that by extension create a feeling of safety on its own for the reader, because none of it is real? Or maybe I'm going too far lol XD)

In that case, off the top of my head, these are the kinds of stories that would become cozy horror by that definition (no bad ending):

The Conjuring (2013)

Get Out (2017)

Dracula by Bram Stoker

(As an aside, the issue with readers knowing that nothing bad will happen in the end kind of negates the way in which horror works through the use of the unknown and reader uncertainty, at least in part.)

I'm not sure if I'd group the horror experience of all three as similar, and I'm not sure that they have similar amounts of tension. But the stakes are all essentially the same: soul/self (damnation/loss of self). Relatively high stakes lol, but they have good endings... I wonder?

In my head, the way that this idea of cozy [genre] works is we actually remove the stakes in the story, because they're there, but we're signalling to the reader that the main character(s) aren't really going to have to deal with those stakes much, and will overcome them regardless of what's thrown at them. So, you have stakes, but you don't really have stakes, if that makes sense. So, you can have high stakes, too, like in horror, because you don't really have stakes; the characters will prevail.

I also wonder, how much of a 'good' ending would qualify something as a cozy horror? And what about stories with bittersweet endings, like The Others (2001), where the revelation at the end is like "Oh, okay, so they're actually safe, nothing's wrong, but that's because they're the ones who are doing the haunting"? It's a relatively good ending, but also not quite the good ending we're expecting.

Apart from that, if we consider other cozy genres, like cozy murder mysteries, it usually takes place in small towns, with average-joe 'detectives', both of which carry over to horror really well. Lots of horror is in a small, limited space like a small town, and lots of horror features protagonists who are just normal people thrown into terrible situations and having to claw their way out of them. The upbeat-uplifting tone of cozy mysteries, however... I think it would be interesting for sure to try and apply that in horror. It might come off sounding ironic, perhaps even play into comedy horror a little, too.

I haven't read any SCP stories or House of Leaves, but I've been meaning to for some time now. Maybe after I finish my current read!

Cozy Fantasy and Why It Doesn't Work

I think I am among many who feel like they should love cozy fantasy and have found it an incredibly lacking genre.

This newly branded "cozy fantasy" genre that has taken readers by storm since 2020 and while it is new that books are now marketed as cozy, the genre itself isn't new. Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones is a great example of the genre before it was labeled and also how to make it work.

Cozy fantasy is defined by many as fantasy with low stakes. Fantasy aesthetic but less sword fights. On paper, it sounds great. But the execution has been less than stellar for readers like me. The lack of physical stakes has also impacted the emotional stakes of these books, creating forgettable characters with boring problems. As a romance reader, I find this frustrating. Romance is known for being a predictable and formulaic genre, the now defunct Romance Writers of America defined romances as needing happy endings, a term romances have continued to follow. Yet these romance texts manage to have low physical stakes (how to date your neighbor, how to confront your toxic friends, etc) while still maintaining high personal stakes that keep readers invested and begging for more. So I was initially confused why cozy fantasy authors struggle to write texts that connect to readers like me.

I think I have found the answer which is the genre is just here for vibes. It is all about aesthetic, not even worldbuilding that fantasy is known for as most cozy fantasy I read have so many problems as soon as you ask one question. It is hard to acknowledge that a genre that is pitched to work for readers like me doesn't work for many of us. Especially because occasionally there is one that works beautifully to my taste.

I often say my favorite cozy fantasies that are more contemporary are short and visual, which I plays into the idea of the genre being an aesthetic. The Bakery Dragon by Devin Elle Kurtz is a good example because it is a simple story that is given the perfect amount of pages and gorgeous visuals without dragging on when the message is very clear and easy to understand. Books like The Phoenix Keeper and Legends and Lattes have absolutely nothing for me, their very clear message hitting the reader over and over so the readers don't miss it and focusing on the aesthetic of worldbuilding rather than the reality of the fantastic elements within the world.

I guess my point is. . . I realize this genre isn't for me since I have realized it is more of an aesthetic than anything. .. .but I want it to be. Should I let it go and put my efforts elsewhere? Or should I keep exploring this new trend and find the hidden gems?

[ravencromwell]

Rereading Dickens Christmas Carol for the first time in a long time. And the more I reread, the more it strikes me how seamlessly a queer reading could slip within these pages. Not an especially twee reading, wherein all Scrooge's troubles start and end with grief over Jacob Marley's death. For we know that Scrooge was a "Tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner!" And we know that he and Marley were "two kindred spirits"

And perhaps that very fact makes the similarities to queer life, unintended as they most likely were by Mr. Dickens, achingly poignant to me. Scrooge is, we're told, "secret and self-contained and solitary as an oyster." How much that resonates, for so many of us who shield our innermost selves but from a select group of friends. And we know that Scrooge and Marley were, at the very least, certainly that for one another. Scrooge is Marley's sole mourner; his sole executor and beneficiary; and even Dickens notes, "friend." How reminiscent is that of queer couples across history, estranged from their families?

Scrooge lives in a set of chambers that once belonged to Marley—clearly Dickens wanted us to believe Scrooge gave up his own dwellings after Marley's death to economize. But with only a flicker of change, those chambers become _their chambers, rented by Marley as the senior member of the couple. The place is so desolate Dickens notes "one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide-and-seek with other houses, and have forgotten the way out again." The perfect abode for two queer misers who wanted no one prying into their business.

Marley's name is still above the door of Scrooge's counting-house: a mark by which, no doubt, Dickens meant to convey Scrooge such a penny-pincher he couldn't bother to have it changed. But a thing can be both! mark of frugality to ludicrous excess and! mark of mourning. "sometimes," Dickens opines, "People new to the

business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names. It was all the same to him."

This is why "death of the author" matters so much, in expanding our interpretations of texts. It is vastly far from the lens Dickens would have intended. But, the idea of a ghost of queerness, so taboo in the society it could barely be glanced at sidewise in this tale that is all about the inexplicable and yet that lingers over everything becomes an astonishing lens through which to read this book. Thinking of Scrooge as a queer man, his "melancholy dinner at his usual melancholy tavern" becomes a eerie prefiguring of the hollowness of days spent by Isherwood's A Single Man. In this universe, little wonder Scrooge doubly hates mention of time with family, marriage, etc. when the precise nature of his grief is both unacknowledged and unacknowledgable.

And readings like this are vital, because the uncomfortable truth is, discrimination doesn't "discriminate between sinners and saints", to borrow a Miranda phrase. It is easy, in my liberal circles, to fight for queer people who hold "the good sorts of politics". But what about men like Michael Hess, culpable for supporting Reagan even as his contemptuous homophobia let the aids epidemic run rampant? How much harder is it to remember Michael had a partner? That he deserves empathy and compassion for being practically tarred and feathered out of the party upon his own aids diagnosis?

Expanding our imaginative universes to include queerness, not as redemptive panacea, but merely as one aspect of identity, personality, often in vicious conflict with others. Even! as we consider those stories equally worthy of being told feels vital if we're ever to truly express the complexity of what queer humanity looks like.

[abbulark]

It's still happening! I was obsessed with Law & Order in high school, and that's copaganda. Sometimes it's very bad at being copaganda, but it's very interesting to see how things changed over the years. In a season 5 episode of Law and Order that aired in 1994, S. Epatha Merkerson's character Anita Van Buren shoots a young black man who is mugging her at an ATM. It later comes out that he is intellectually disabled. The episode is about her trying to come to terms with the fact that she shot a child that isn't that much older than her own sons, and knowing that even if she gets in no legal trouble, she still did it. Dick Wolf definitely wanted to repair the reputation of the police in New York, but he couldn't go hard against public opinion. But then, public opinion has a tendency to shift.

Twenty years later, the year that Trayvon Martin was gunned down in the street by a civilian PRETENDING to be a cop, the episode ripped from the Trayvon Martin headlines was ALSO ripped from the headlines of Paula Deen saying slurs. It was watered down, had very little message, and was weak. This was clearly on purpose. They didn't even have to justify it, because it was already justified. They just wrote a story about how scary young black people are and called it a day. Here's Jezebel's contemporary review.

I definitely ate the copaganda watching Law and Order contemporaneously, especially when SVU was at the height of its popularity. But Law and Order has such a huge body of programming, some of which is less copagandic than others due to the effect of history. There are shows that came behind it that are straight up glorifying cops killing, like Blue Bloods, The Shield, and one of the worst of all, NCIS.

NCIS has a special place in my hate because it was a clear arm of propaganda for the Israeli military in the era of anti-terrorism task forces. They kill so many fucking people on NCIS, even when they're not doing it with Israeli secret police. Many people in America who justify the genocide in Palestine are doing it with vague memories of episodes of NCIS they've watched.

Anyway. Most of our parents are probably a loss when it comes to not thinking cops are cool and great. But my brother told me that when he watched the video interview our dad gave before his death, dad said he thought my brother would never become a cop. He was right. My brother wanted to save lives, and he never became a cop.

Public opinion does have a way of shifting, after all.

I have to admit it annoys me when folks talk like 1990s media was so daring for mildly disrespecting cops. "Oh, The Simpsons was ahead of its time" no, that was a completely normal level of contempt for the police at the time. There was a big wave of pro-cop media in the early 2000s from which we have yet to fully recover!

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 18

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

..........................................................

Ananya woke up the next morning, with Jude holding her close. Still on their sides, facing each other, his arm on her waist and one of his legs resting in between hers. Only difference being he was on the end of his pillow now, not hers.

She sighed & looked at his peaceful resting face, a picture of perfection. His features soft yet sharp. Manly yet boyish. The dichotomy never failed to amaze her. God must truly be proud of this particular creation of his.

He was here. He was really here. Not a figment of her imagination that she had conjured up in her despair yesterday.

Slowly, she traced his cheek with the back of her index finger. Rest of him was just hard muscle, but his face was soft. The skin feeling warm & squishy under her touch. He stirred a little, but his breathing evened again, and she resumed her exploration.

The trim seemed fresh, suiting him perfectly, but it was a tad too fine on the sides. She made a mental note of telling him that.

Her finger slid to his firm, muscly neck, lingering there. Something about his neck always did things to her. His pronounced Adam’s Apple always catching her attention. 

She could do this all day, just admire his beauty & soak in his presence. Especially after yesterday, when she had nearly lost it all. Again. 

‘Ummm colddd.’

Her hands were somehow always colder than the rest of her body, even under a blanket. Jude often called it a mystery.

Keeping his eyes still firmly shut, he reached for her palm blindly and then put it inside his sweatshirt, on his chest, warming it with his body heat. The gesture turning her into mush. She was about to hug him dearly but Jude being Jude said something wildly unexpected before that.

‘So you touch me often while I sleep?’

She stilled, gaping at him. He peeped one eye open, while rubbing sleep out of the other one. Even half-asleep he was notorious.

‘W-what?’

He scooted closer on the pillow, noses touching, as his lips curved up into a half-smirk.

‘Where all do you touch me?’

‘JUDE.’

‘Can I do it to you too?’

‘Stop right n..’

‘Imagine waking up with my head between your legs, huh? Or my hand? Bet you’d like it.’

‘YOU LITTLE ASS.’

‘Nothing about me is little, darling. You of all people should know it. And definitely not my ass, you love it.’

‘I hate it.’

‘Lies on Christmas? What would Santa say?’

‘Santa would understand, since I have to deal with a demon like you.’

‘Please, you adore me.’

‘Let me go.’

She struggled to get out of his hold but his grip was tight and his booming laugh quickly eroded the fight in her (plus she never actually wanted to get out of his arms, not really), making her giggle too at the silliness of it. The sound was music to his ears.

Jude buried his head in her hair.

‘Merry Christmas Eve, darling.’

His accent was somehow thicker in such moments, each word ringing distinctly in her head.

‘To you too, Jude!’

She knew he had done this to lighten the mood, and she was secretly thankful. Her emotions were still all over the place after yesterday, and were threatening to bubble over any instant. 

Ananya turned in his arms, facing him again, and was met with a charming, dashing grin. The boy should just be illegal, head to toe. She couldn’t help herself from reaching over and kissing his cheek.

‘When did you know?’

‘Know what?’

Jude knew very well what she was asking but he loved to play this game with her.

She rolled her eyes loudly and he quit the teasing.

‘Sometime after the dinner with the three of us. I think Jobe said something which I couldn’t stop thinking about, and then one thing led to another. I knew that night.’

‘So without him you won’t have realised?’

‘Sometimes I need help with these things. But honestly, I think I’ve loved you long before. That night just put things in perspective.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Don’t leave me hanging now. Tell me about you, when did you know?’

Flashes of that night came to her mind, when she had nearly blurted it out unknowingly. She told him she didn’t know the exact moment either but that was when she realised. Jude remembered that night. He knew something was off when she had dashed to the washroom like that but could never imagine the reason to be this. Until now.

‘I guess, somehow without me realising, you just clawed your way into my heart.’

‘I’m quite a clawer for what I really want.’

‘Clearly.’

They fell into a comfortable silence, her head lying on his chest, listening to the soothing rhythmic beating of his heart. While his fingers threaded through her hair.

‘I love dove.’

She looked up then.

‘Dove is love. So lovey dovey. Look it all fits. I’m so creative.’

‘You’re so silly is what you are.’

‘Pls, you’re jealous of my genius.’

‘Sure.’

‘Where’s my Christmas present?’

‘It’s….in the works.’

He looked at her suspiciously. But how was she supposed to know things would materialise in this way? She had assumed she would have more time till she saw him again, before her trip to India. 

‘Honestly, I didn’t forget. It’s in the works.’

‘Gimme a hint?’

‘In a way it’s similar to yours. In a way.’

‘You’re writing something? Making something?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh I CAN NOT wait.’

‘Soon, baby.’

‘You’ll beat me, won’t you? It’s gonna be better than mine?’

‘Gosh it’s not a competition. And for the record, nothing could be better than yours. Not in a million years.’

‘Now that you say it..’

He preened a little under her praise and she found even that endearing. God help her!

But something was nagging her, something that she needed to let out.

‘Jude.’

‘Yeah?’

‘I was too harsh yesterday. Some things I said….I’m sorry.’

‘You were angry & hurt. It’s not your fault. Plus you were mostly right.’

‘But still I…maybe shouldn’t have said a few things….I didn’t mean them.’

Her hand gripped his sweatshirt and she sank further into his chest. Jude cupped her face with one hand, while his other hand ran up & down her back.

‘Shhh. It’s ok. Just tell me this - at any point, did you really believe I’d walk out on you like that?’

She took a deep breath. In her attempt to alleviate the pain, she had tried to convince herself of a lot of things. But the answer to his question was clear.

‘No.’

‘And did you know I’d fight for you? Come back for you?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s it then. That’s all I need - your love & trust. With that, we can get through anything.’

Overwhelmed, she snuggled into him, trying to crawl under his skin to get a load of his warmth and his scent. He held her tight through it.

‘Maybe we should talk about a few things though. Like what you said about my Insta likes.’

‘Now?’

‘Now’s as good a time as any.’

Reluctantly, she nodded, asking him to go on.

‘I thought about what you said. I’d be more mindful going forward. You won’t have any complaints. But if you do, will you please tell me then & there?’

‘Yes. Ok.’

‘It’s your right Ananya. You need to understand that. Believe that. Truly. You have a right over me, like I have a right over you.’

‘I hear you.’

‘Pls be more vocal with me. I need that. I’d love that. I’m not good at reading between the lines, you would have seen that by now. So pls help me there.’

‘I-I’ll try.’

‘Great. One more thing.’

‘What?’

‘Is the 100 Euro threshold still on?’

Ananya had set that as an upper limit for him to get her anything. This was her way to have a middle-ground to still let him get her stuff but nothing expensive.

‘What made you ask that?’

‘Because now we’ve said we love each other. And I wanna spoil you, like I do for the other people I love.’

She looked at him tentatively, and he knew the answer before she said anything.

‘I’d really appreciate it if we could stick to the threshold. For now.’

If Jude was disappointed, he didn’t let it show on his face.

‘Ok.’

‘Did I upset you?’

‘No, it’s fine.’

She reached out to cup his cheek. 

‘It’s not about you. Even with my parents, I haven’t taken a cent since I took up this job. And I don’t wanna take anything from them for my MBA also. Both Stanford and Harvard are expensive, but if I do well at work I’d get a full scholarship from my company. That’s why I applied for this team - more work, higher stakes but better incentives. Just trying to make my own way in this world and I am a bit of a stickler for that. And I get that you’re not trying to interfere with that in any form, that this is just your way to express yourself but pls give me some time to get accustomed to it. Also, it’s the gesture that counts right? Not the price tag.’

He turned his face to gaze his lips against her palm.

‘I respect that, really.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I’m glad you are telling me things like these, makes me feel closer to you.’

He had said that last night also. And she had felt it too. Strangely, this had not been an issue in her previous relationship. But somehow, with Jude, she hadn’t been able to communicate as effectively. For no fault of his.

Maybe because she didn’t feel inadequate with her ex. But with Jude, it was another story. Maybe, she should tell him that.

‘I-I saw her yesterday. Her pics.’

Jude sighed. He could already tell how she would have tortured herself in a thousand different ways and where all her mind would have gone.

‘Ok. And?’

‘And - I can’t be like that.’

‘Who’s asking you to be like that?’

‘Won’t you? At some point?’

‘Have I done anything to make you feel that way?’

‘No, but…’

‘But what?’

‘You’re 20 Jude. You may not know what you want.’

‘You’re 20 too.’

‘Yes. But age & maturity work differently in men & women. You said it yourself.’

Jude took a few deep breaths to calm his head before responding.

‘That maybe true. But I know that I want you just the way you are. And that my days of straying are over.’

‘Your friend had a different opinion.’

Jude looked at her with confusion and she referred to the video of his Dortmund friend Gio saying Jude would be the last person he’d want his sister to date, and that there were various reasons for that which he couldn’t get into.

‘Wow, stalking me much?’

She just shrugged.

‘Ananya, that was before us. And it was a joke answer to a hypothetical question.’

‘A joke answer based on some facts?’

Silence for 2 seconds.

‘Yes. But it’s in the past.’

‘Don’t wanna go back to that life? To just have fun?’

‘No. And I do have my fun with you.’

‘What changed?’

‘You. I met you.’

She looked at him with such a mix of earnestness and residual doubt that he felt like his heart would explode in his chest.

Jude kissed her lips for a good 30 seconds, calming both their nerves.

‘Baby, listen to me yeah? The kind of life & women you are talking about, I had that. In abundance. And I thought that would suffice for the next few years. That it would be ‘fun’ for the next few years. Till it's time to settle down. But somewhere along the way I started to get bored. It became just about some initial flirting then sex. And that was it, nothing after that. No conversation, no companionship, nothing. I didn’t even spend the night in the same bed, didn’t want to. There was no one to come home to. No one to talk to after a good day or a bad day. No one to share my thoughts with. No one to take me away from reality when the day-to-day became too heavy. No partner. No confidante. No one to love. No one to spoil. No one to watch a movie with or share a laugh with. No one to anchor me. No one to understand what this game and this club means to me. And I didn’t really know of this void till I met you. Remember how we talked for hours on our first date? I don’t even recollect the last time I had that or even wanted that with anyone. But you - you changed everything. And I know you’d call it cheesy but I kinda just had this feeling about you, from the moment I saw you in that cafe.’

‘It is cheesy.’

‘Such a hater.’

She shrugged. Jude knew she didn’t believe in fairy tales any more but he also had a feeling there was a time when she did. Then it all changed, maybe after her breakup. Since then she had hardened her heart and strived to become more practical. But in time, she’d believe in destiny again. Because he had started to believe in it now, since he met her. It could only be destiny which made his mother suggest that cafe, for him to stop there that day and look out the window. And everything that transpired after that. He was convinced it was written somewhere. It was ironic, because it felt straight out of a movie. And Jude wasn’t particularly fond of these rom-coms  (while she loved them wholeheartedly). But the tables had turned and he’d become a believer now.

‘ANYWAY, like I was saying, it all changed with you. I keep repeating it like a broken record, and will probably do that till you actually believe it, that I’m completely obsessed with you. I love every side of you - smart, opinionated, headstrong, feisty, sweet, kind, thoughtful, shy, football fanatic, Madridista. Just everything. Never met anyone like you. You want me for me, not the other things that come with it. Heck you would have liked me a lot more easily had those things not been there. Do you understand how rare that is? I know the feminist in you would scoff at this but most women I’ve met want me for other things. It’s true, don’t look at me like that. And you know what’s the sexiest thing about you? That you actually have no clue how sexy you are. You’re like a sexy little kitten. When you talk on your work calls in words I don’t even understand, it gets me so hot I can’t explain. Many times I’ve considered just grabbing you then & there. Have pictured taking you on your office desk, or on a conference room table, right after a big presentation. Don’t know what witchcraft it is that you’re looking so alluring even in this baggy night-suit. The definition of temptation from the Garden of Eden. Why do you think guys hit on you? Why do you think that lee….that colleague of yours fell for you? Dove, I can’t wait to show you off to people whenever we decide to go public. You’re perfect for me, just as you are.’

Her eyes were lowered, as she clung to him while hearing him profess how desirable he found her in that disarming baritone of his. The colour starting to seep into her cheeks & neck.

Jude sighed loudly, cupping her cheek.

‘I think of this flush when I touch myself.’

She slapped his chest.

‘Shameless boy.’

‘What? Sharing things with my girlfriend is shameless? I’d call that healthy communication. You should try it sometime.’

‘Yeah right.’

‘No seriously. Tell me something about my ass. I know you check it out all the time.’

The confident smirk was on in full force now.

‘You really are a menace.’

‘Thank you.’

He chuckled, the sound & his pretty face making her smile too.

Jude leaned over to kiss her cheek and they snuggled into a comfy embrace again, his big arms engulfing her, neither wanting this moment to end. After a few seconds, curiosity got the better of him.

‘Dove?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You think I’m too possessive?’

‘Where did that come from?’

‘Just something you said yesterday.’

‘I never said that.’

‘Not directly. But felt like you implied it.’

She rose up slightly, leaning on her elbow, looking down at his waiting eyes. His face so open & transparent. In his closed circle, Jude really walked the talk of sharing everything. With him, what you see is what you get. He would just blurt out the most random of things sometimes but no one could call him secretive, not with the people he truly loved.

It made her want to share too. But words were hard to come by. Mostly because that phase of her life she had locked away somewhere in her heart, never to revisit. Never to mull over. 

‘I don’t mind it. In fact, I sorta like it. Shows me you care. It’s different from what I’ve…..experienced before.’

Jude knew where this was going, and he patiently waited for her to continue at her own pace. She looked away & chose to share one particular instance to show what she meant.

‘Once, we were in a club in Goa. After our final term got over. We were in a big group but the two of us had separated mid-way. I was waiting for him to get a drink from the bar. A guy came over, quite drunk, and asked me to dance with him. I said no and he walked away, no fuss there. When my boyfriend….ex boyfriend came back I told him this and he wasn’t bothered at all. In fact he was like you could try it out, it was just a dance, just an experience. I didn’t get it at all. Like I can’t explain, it wasn’t a big thing, not like he did something major but it just made me feel a little less wanted.’

She turned to look at him, he was still listening to her intently. 

‘I know you would never do that.’

‘Never.’

He responded without missing a beat. She smiled.

‘I know, and I like that.’

‘Well, I’m glad. Coz I don’t know how to be any different when it comes to you.’

She stroked his cheek softly.

‘You don’t need to be.’

He covered her hand with his, holding it there.

‘If you don’t mind, what happened there? With him?’

Her face dropped, and she buried her face into his neck, fingers playing with the fabric of his sweatshirt.

‘You don’t have to tell me, but tell someone. It feels like it’s weighing on you, and the weight will only grow with time.’

Jude was right. She hadn’t really talked about it in detail even with her close friends back home. Not even her cousin. The official line she had used was that they grew apart, not much beyond that. Locking it away seemed like the best choice at the time, because the separation made her weak and desperate and she hated to be in that state. Hated seeing herself like that. She never revisited it later because what if thinking about that made her weak again? It was much easier to just zone out of it. But that wasn’t particularly healthy. She was surprised though that Jude had caught on to that.

‘Listening to me talk about my ex is not weird for you?’

‘I want you to talk to me about anything you feel. Wanna be your friend too.’

‘Hmm.’

She considered that for a bit, while he gently ran his fingers through her hair. Somewhere along the way she started talking.

‘We always knew we were very different in personalities. And after a point it started bothering him, though in the beginning he always told me we’d find a mid-way. Honestly, I didn’t do enough to find a mid-way too, it was my fault as well, but at least I tried. After a point, when he thought it was too hard, he stopped trying. He loved me a lot, not denying that, but it came down crashing very quickly when he checked out mentally. Which is why he got over it quickly too, he’s very practical that way. Always told me to never get too attached to anyone and never have too many expectations. I was not his first love, he had his heart broken by his high-school crush, which made him practical. But he was my first love, my first in everything, and I fell head over heels. He told me many times to not make my life all about him, and he was right there, it’s not good for either party. But I understood all that a lot later, when he was at a point of no return. He never really looked back, and it was hard for me to handle. So I cut off from him and that set of friends completely. It was easier to not see him at all than to see him completely alright. When I was nowhere close to it. This was in April. I haven’t seen him or spoken to him since then. He’s not on socials so that makes it easier to cut off too. This wedding I’m going for would be the first time I see him in months. ’

It was all starting to make sense to Jude. Why she was the way she was and why she tried so hard to keep her guard up. 

That he was going to be at the wedding was not news to Jude, Ananya had told him well in advance. And it didn’t bother him. Well, mostly it didn’t bother him. 

‘I’m sorry you had to go through this.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Look at me.’

He tilted her chin to look into her moist eyes.

‘What did I say about tears?’

She wiped her eyes with the back of her arm.

‘Sorry.’

‘Baby - I’m sorry you had to go through this. But without that, you wouldn’t have come to Madrid and would never have met me.’

‘Yeah.’

‘It’s meant to be, I’m telling you.’

‘When did you become so cheesy?’

‘Your fault. You are doing things to me I don’t understand.’

‘Oh Jude.’

She turned to find his lips, kissing him dearly. He kissed back with equal fervour, flipping them to get on top of her.

The kiss became heated in no time and she knew where it would go if she didn’t stop him. So she rolled out from underneath him, leaving him high & dry, scooting away to the edge of the bed.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Excused.’

‘Thought we were having a moment there?’

‘We were. Then it ended.’

‘Thought I was punished enough yesterday. Clearly not.’

‘Told you I need some time.’

‘Fine.’

He sulked, tucking his arm under his head, watching her tidy up the room a bit.

‘Jude, you need to leave now.’

‘So you’re kicking me out also? Boy you’re cruel.’

‘It’s Christmas Eve. You need to be home. Now get up & leave. You promised.’

‘I said afternoon. It’s 11 am right now.’

‘Fine. Then go take a shower in Roma’s room, I’ll take one here & make some breakfast and then you will leave.’

‘Can I take a shower with you?’

She crossed her arms.

‘What do you think?’

He tried a different strategy.

‘Can I draw you a bath?’

She narrowed her eyes at him.

‘I’m good at those. Honest.’

‘Fine.’

He jumped up from the bed like a toddler who had been told he could skip school today, and headed straight to her washroom, banishing her from coming inside till he called her in.

When he did call her in, the place had turned into a mess but the bath-tub sure looked inviting, bubbles foaming well above it.

‘Thank you.’

‘I’ll help you get in.’

‘Didn’t know I needed help with that.’

‘Floor is wet. You need help.’

Amused, she decided to play along.

‘Fine.’

She tied her hair in a bun & took off her clothes. And Jude tried really hard to keep his eyes on her face. Really hard.

He extended his hand to her which she took, and he carefully guided her inside the tub. She hummed while sitting down, the hot bubbly water providing instant soothing.

‘Thank you Jude, this is lovely.’

‘I could help wash you with the loofah.’

She smiled. It was glaringly obvious what he was trying to do but it was cute as well.

‘Fine.’

He smiled wholeheartedly. And for a second she forgot what game he was playing.

Jude fetched the loofah and started with her arms, running it softly over her skin. She moaned a little, which was not helpful for his nether regions. He went to her legs and she moaned harder. Jude wondered if she was doing it on purpose to torment him but her eyes were shut and her face looked so innocent it couldn’t be so. 

Somehow, he carried on and moved to her back, but the angle was restrictive.

‘I could do it better if I’m inside.’

‘You wanna join me in the tub?’

‘Just to help wash you.’

‘Sure.’

Jude took off his clothes then, and she had to look away to not break her resolve. It didn’t help though, coz when he sat down he pulled her back to his front, and it was hard, so hard to remain unaffected. 

He continued the charade & rubbed the wet object down her front, paying special attention to her chest. She threw her head back & moaned, which made him groan too.

‘A little mercy here?’

‘This is your doing.’

Defeated, he carried on. The object tickled her tummy & she giggled a little. But the giggles died in her throat when he moved to her thighs. His actions slow & deliberate. Measured. 

‘Ju-de.’

‘Yeah baby? Want something?’

She whimpered as his hands continued going lower down her thighs, till the very apex of them. There, he stopped.

‘Don’t think this can go here, right?

‘Ermm no.’

‘Gonna have to use something else then?’

‘Y-yes.’

He threw the loofah away. And prodded at her sensitive folds with his long, strong fingers, pushing one inside her.

She shuddered & fell back against him, and his other arm came around her waist to support her.

‘Why deny yourself? Why not take what you want?’

He whispered in her ear. Despite being in hot water, her whole skin tingled with goosebumps.

The way his finger was filling her up made her head swirl. Her own touch wasn’t good enough anymore, since she had met him. It did nothing for her; her body ached for him whenever she had tried to tend to it last week. And now he was here. Offering to please her. How could she resist?

‘Yes? Say yes, baby.’

He punctuated that with perfectly timed thrusts of his finger, adding another one in, making it impossible to say no.

‘I love you.’

He cooed behind her. The words which were her ruin. Her undoing. 

‘YES. God yes.’

‘Such a good girl. Gonna take care of you now.’

His fingers moved gloriously inside her. Doing all kind of things to her insides. When he added his thumb to massage her sensitive spot, she shuddered violently and water fell from the sides of the bathtub, making him smile.

She needed more of him. Craved more of him.

‘Ju-de.’

‘Turn around. Hold my arm.’

He guided her carefully to turn and sit in his lap, bending her legs at her knees. She looked like a goddess, a wet naked Greek water goddess. 

‘Come here you.’

He grabbed the side of her face and pulled her in for a deep kiss, plunging straight in, pouring all his longing into it. She whimpered & tried to hold his arms or the side of the tub but it was all slippery & she couldn’t find an anchor. 

The bubbles were hiding her from him. It was a travesty. Jude picked them up in his palms & started throwing them out of the tub, making more of a mess on the floor than it already was. She wanted to protest but his eagerness was endearing. When he had cleared them enough and her torso was visible, he went for her neck & chest, biting & sucking with abandon. Her soft moans filled the room, he revelled in those sounds.

His large palms cupped her butt, kneading them with force, lifting them to lower her gradually on his length. The angle made her feel him deep inside, and she gasped all the way through. 

After going in fully, he gave her time to adjust. She panted a little, trying to find the right slot for her legs to find some balance. The cramped space & his large body not giving her much room. After adjusting to the heavy intrusion, she finally looked at his stunning face. Droplets fell off his sharp jaw sultrily, putting her in a trance. If there was something more erotic than naked Jude, it was naked Jude wet. She leaned over to steal a kiss of her own, going for his cheeks first, then the tip of his nose, then finally his lips.

‘My prince.’

She whispered softly, and he preened under her nickname. 

Feeling emboldened, she leaned in again but this time she bit his cheekbones instead, followed by the tip of his nose. He chuckled, and did the same to her, ending with little bites on her bottom lip.

Her hand traced his torso, starting with his muscly neck, moving to his chest hair, then his six-packs and finally his happy trail. The touch sending sparks through both of them. 

‘I can’t wait anymore.’

‘Who’s asking you to.’

With another quick kiss, he grabbed her hips and started moving her on top of him. The angle hitting all the right spots deep inside. He quickly found THE spot & made a beeline for it. She shuddered & mewled & thrashed against him but he didn’t relent, making her peak shortly after. The speed & intensity with which her pleasure was wrung out of her left her completely breathless & spent. But he wasn’t done yet. He kept moving her like a rag doll, stimulating her excessively, till he filled her up with shots after shots of his pleasure. Her clenching muscles squeezing him of every last drop.

She fell forward on his chest, and he held her like a precious flower, rubbing her back softly, pressing kisses to the top of her head.

‘That was….it was…’

‘Amazing? Breath-taking? Out of this world?’

He grinned against her forehead. Her hand reached up to caress his cheek.

‘Yes. Because you are all of those things.’

‘Look at you, being mushy in love.’

She met his playful eyes then.

‘You’re doing things to me I don’t understand either.’

‘Why thank you.’

‘You’re also incredibly silly and say the most inappropriate things at the most inappropriate times to completely kill the moment.’

‘But you still love me.’

‘Sadly, I do.’

It was getting late. She had to be the adult here. Grudgingly, she got out of his arms and out of the tub, leaving him behind to clean the mess while she made them some breakfast.

Jude entered the kitchen 10 mins later with water still dripping from his hair. She shooed him out, admonishing him for making a mess of the whole apartment.

Mumbling under his breath as to how she was so mean to him at times, Jude fixed his hair & the floor. Then plopped on the couch, one leg resting on the back of it.

He perked up when she emerged from the kitchen with two plates of French toast, a favourite for both of them. Jude pulled her next to him, and they ate side by side.

It was time. To leave.

‘Call Agnes. You’re going to the airport now.’

‘One more hour.’

‘JUDE.’

‘What? Why are you so eager to see me gone?’

He cried out, almost sounding hurt.

She moved to sit in his lap, and cradled his cheeks in her palms.

‘Baby - it’s Christmas Eve. I know how much you love this time. I know that your family is the most important thing in the world for you. I can’t be the reason to separate you from home right now. I can’t have that on me.’

‘You’re important too.’

He said that matter of factly and she wanted to cry out of love again. 

‘I know. But please, you can go now. I’ll be fine. You don’t have to stay back for me. I know that’s what’s holding you back, but really I’m fine now.’

Jude wasn’t sold. He knew she was still raw & overwhelmed from yesterday. He didn’t want her sitting alone & her mind going places. Her flight was day after tomorrow, she still had two more days here. 

‘What about your other friends? Work friends? They don’t have any plans around this time?’

‘They do..but..’

‘But what?’

She looked up at him, not wanting to say it. But he understood.

‘But he’s gonna be there.’

‘Yeah.’

Jude covered his face with his hands, sighing audibly. It was a rock & a hard place kinda scenario. But her staying alone was not an option.

‘I’ve said no.’

‘What’s the plan?’

‘What?’

‘What’s their plan?’

‘Umm they leave this evening for a cabin on the countryside, a 2 hour drive. Spend tonight & Christmas Day tomorrow there, then return in the evening.’

‘How many people?’

She looked at him oddly, unsure why he was even asking this.

‘5 of them, including him. 1 couple, one other girl, and 2 guys.’

‘What’s the sleeping situation gonna be?’

She rolled her eyes.

‘3 bedrooms. They offered to have me in with the other girl.’

‘Who called you for this?’

She rolled her eyes loudly again. As if Arjun would call her to invite her, after how awkward things had been between them.

‘Anna - the other girl.’

Jude covered his head with his hands again. Trying to reach a decision, while she sat confused. 

‘Go.’

‘What?’

‘You’re going.’

‘No I’m not.’

‘I don’t have a problem with this.’

‘Tell that to your face.’

‘Ok I do have a big problem with this. But I can’t have you here alone. So you’re going. Call them & confirm now.’

‘Jude - I don’t want any drama. It’s not worth it.’

‘I’ll behave myself, promise. Just don’t…don’t tell me anything about it. About him. Unless something major happens, I don’t wanna know anything. I’ll just pretend he’s not there.’

She looked at him incredulously.

‘You? You’re saying you don’t wanna know about him?’

‘Yes I’m making an exception. Look, anyone else I can handle, but that….that creature…I…’

‘You hate him. I know.’

‘Understatement of the century. But yeah.’

‘Jude, I don’t have to go. It’s not worth it.’

‘You’re either coming home with me or going with them. Pick.’

He didn’t leave her with any option. Going home with him she’d never pick, it was too soon, especially after all the drama that had just transpired. She was mortified enough that her parents got to know about them this way. 

‘Fine.’

‘Message them now. I wanna see it.’

‘And I’m the Hitler?’

‘Mostly yes.’

She sent the message, received a quick excited confirmation then shoved the screen in his face.

‘Happy?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m telling you now itself it’s not a good idea.’

‘The alternative is worse.’

‘Gosh you’re stubborn.’

‘Look who’s talking.’

‘Ok. Time to go now. Move.’

‘Wait. I just did this immensely mature thing and I don’t get a reward?’

His fingers started caressing up her sides, from where she was sitting in his lap.

‘You’ll get one when we meet next.’

‘Too far out. How about a quick one now?’

‘There’s nothing quick with you.’

‘We can try.’

His grip tightened on her sides as he leaned in towards her chest. She had to stop this now, else he won’t leave for a long time.

Summoning all her will, she batted his hands away and stepped out of his lap.

‘Seriously?’

‘Yes. LEAVE.’

‘My girlfriend leaves me high & dry, then kicks me out ON CHRISTMAS, after I’ve told her I LOVE HER?’

She cocked her head at him. He’d put a toddler to shame with all his histrionics.

‘Enough with this emotional blackmail. Now pick up your things & leave. I’m calling Agnes.’

She followed through and called Agnes the next second. Muttering under his breath, he stood up, went to the bedroom to get his things, then dragged himself back out, shoulders slumped.

Before he was about to open the door, she held his hand, stood on her tiptoes and pulled him down for a soft kiss.

‘I’ll make it up to you, promise.’

‘I’ll hold you to it.’

‘I know you will.’

She kissed him again, and his spare arm wrapped around her waist.

‘Jude, I love you, so so much.’

‘Love you too, my little dove.’

‘Call me after you reach home.’

‘Will do. And text me all the time you are there.’

‘Will do.’

‘And if anything major happens…’

‘Yes I will call you immediately.’

‘I don’t wanna go.’

‘I know. But you have to. And we’ll meet soon. Bye baby.’

‘Bye, darling.’

…………………………………………………………………….

There you go :)

Am still a bit unwell but didn't want to keep you guys waiting anymore. 6.3k words, phew!

2 more chapters to go till the end of the story.

As always, would love to hear your comments / thoughts / messages. That you for all the love to Jude & Ananya!

[lale-txt]

APHRODITE ; Osamu x f!reader

He looks down at you, his gaze betraying his words–greedy, lovesick–and you want to live in this moment forever.

contains: f!reader, dilf!Osamu, co-workers, age gap (reader is in her twenties, Osamu in his forties), mutual pining, pet names (all of them. he uses all of them), oral (reader giving), dirty talk, three lines of spit kink bc it wouldn't be a lale-txt work without it, praise kink, whipped Osamu (as in: down bad, adoring)

word count: 2.6k

You shouldn't have these kinds of thoughts. He’s your boss, you remind yourself. 

But admittedly, it’s hard when he’s currently lying under your kitchen sink, his shirt rucked up a little, revealing a sliver of soft skin and a happy trail while he aches and groans. You sit next to his figure on the kitchen floor, never been happier over a leaking pipe in your apartment.

“Hand me the ring wrench, sweetheart,” Osamu mumbles without looking at you, only holding out a calloused hand for you. You love these hands. They’re the hands you watch for hours while working, shaping the perfect onigiri and wondering what they’d feel wrapped around your neck. Sometimes he’d place them against the small of your back when passing by you behind the counter, always lingering a little longer than he had to. Last time he drove you home (he insisted because it was pouring outside), he rested one on your thigh while steering the car with the other.

You’re pretty sure Osamu Miya wants to fuck you badly. You hope he will.

“Doll,” he says again, his voice soft. He knows how often you tend to zone out. You snap out of it and rummage around the toolbox before you, handing him the thing he asked for. 

Look–you haven’t begged him to do this for you. This may be your first apartment you rented by yourself after moving to Osaka for your master program, but you were an independent one. Always have been. You built your own furniture and drilled every hole in the walls yourself. You knew for a fact how to fix a leaking pipe, you just didn’t get around to it yet because you picked up a few extra shifts at your part-time job at Onigiri Miya so you could save up for a new laptop.

But Osamu wants to help–he’s practically begging you to let him. Which is how he ended up on your kitchen floor. 

You’ve been alone with him before. When you were closing the shop together and you imagined how he’d bent you over the counter to violate every food safety regulation to ever exist. When you were the last ones at the bar during last year’s anniversary party, and you thought about stuffing your panties in the pockets of his coat for him to find later. When you spent one night at his place so you could finish a deadline before midnight on his laptop because yours gave out, and you wondered what his stubble would feel against the insides of your thighs if he ate you out. 

Nothing happened and you’ve been growing more frustrated lately. He’s sweet, he’s caring, he’s respectful and you get it. He’s trying to maintain a somewhat professional relationship between you two, especially given your age gap, but some days you wished he’d just let the animal in him run rampage and fuck you stupid against the nearest wall. 

You know he could. You know he’s thinking about it, too.

Ten minutes later he fixed your leaking pipe, but the ache between your thighs persists. He sits up again, so close that your knees are touching in your cramped little kitchen, and gives you a smile that makes your chest tighten with barely contained lust. There’s something boyish about his smile, making it easy to imagine what kind of heartthrob he must have been in his twenties. You gotta ask him about some photos from that time.

He’s still handsome, though. More than that. With his salt-and-pepper hair and the small wrinkles around his eyes, and his big calloused hands, adorned with a few scars from handling knives in the kitchen for over three decades and counting. He’s built differently than his twin, the retired pro-athlete. You’ve met him a few times at the shop. Osamu works out but he also likes to eat, granting him the strength to throw these heavy rice bags over his shoulders as if they weighed nothing. How many times have you imagined him manhandling you like that? You can’t remember. Far too often. 

Osamu wipes the sweat off his forehead and looks at you, lazy half-lidded eyes lingering on your face. He has no idea what kind of effect he has on you. Or maybe he does, but he’s not acting on it which is even more frustrating. 

“Yer hungry? I could fix us a plate,” he offers. Always looking out for you. Always caring. 

“Be my guest,” you reply, nodding over to your fridge. It’s currently stocked with two slices of toast, a cucumber that has seen better days, some leftovers from last week that you haven’t thrown out yet and a half-empty box of orange juice. You usually eat at uni or at work, and lately you’ve been so busy that you haven’t really gotten around to stocking up on things at home. 

Osamu lets out a long sigh when he peaks inside your fridge, one hand on his hip and the other rubbing over his face.

“Sweetheart,” he mutters, his tone a touch condescending, and you laugh quietly. You know this sight pained him more than anything. He looks over his shoulder back at you, his thick brows furrowed. “What is this?”

You rise to your feet as well and take a few steps towards him, firmly shutting the fridge door again.

“None of your business,” you say with a teasing smile to which Osamu huffs. He pats down the pockets of his pants for his phone and then taps the screen a few times. 

“Takeout it is then,” he sighs. This man is determined to feed you at all costs, already adding a few things to the cart. “What d’you want, doll?”

“You.”

Osamu doesn’t lift his head, but his eyes dart up to your face. Pondering if you’re serious or you’re joking. His expression doesn’t betray anything, but the small twitch of his hand and the sight of his pants tightening a little does.

“I want you, Osamu,” you say again, closing the remaining distance between you both. He’s now effectively trapped between you and the counter, and while you know he could easily shove you away–he doesn’t. You lean a little closer to him, your body pressing against his. He swallows and puts his phone aside, taking your face in both of his hands and tilting it up a little to make sure you look at him. You can tell that he’s scratching at the last bits of his self-restraint right now.

“I’m old enough to be your father and—sweetie, you have to stop smiling like that when I say this, goddamn,” he groans and looks away. You’re gonna give him a few more gray hairs, he’s sure of it. His thumbs trace absentmindedly along your jaw, fingers calloused but his touch gentle.

You tilt your head to the side, nuzzling closer into his big palm. His eyes linger on you, as if they’re silently telling you ‘behave’, but no. Of course you have to be a brat about it.

Osamu is a goner when you wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking on it while holding his gaze. 

His chest is heaving with every breath, a muttered ‘fuck’ falling out of his mouth as he pushes his thumb in deeper, pressing down on your tongue and making you open up wide for him. For a moment he thinks about spitting in your mouth, but he’ll save this for later. His cock is throbbing in his jeans, begging for release. 

Osamu has never been a patient man. For you, he tried. But right now you’re tearing him apart with your gaze alone and he lets you. He wants you to.

And now you’re lowering yourself to your knees before him, your nimble hands unbuckling his belt as if they waited a lifetime to do so, and glance up at him with these eyes of yours that make him insane if he looks back at them for too long.

“We shouldn’t,” he mutters. His voice is a little husky and his big hands wrap around yours, forcing them to pause what they were doing. He looks down at you, his gaze betraying his words–greedy, lovesick–and you want to live in this moment forever.

“Doesn’t matter,” you say, nuzzling your face against his clothed bulge and keeping your eyes pinned on him. There’s already a damp spot forming in his pants. “Do you want this?”

Osamu curses under his breath again, but he lets go of your hands and leans back against the counter, watching the smirk on your face widen now that you’re given permission to wreck him. You won’t hold back.

Hot, you think when you unzip his pants, learning that his pubic hair is also salt-and-pepper colored. Your mouth feels a little dry once you pull his pants and boxers down to his ankles, his cock springing free, pulsing and leaking, aching to be touched. It does nothing to ease the throbbing between your thighs, only worsening it, but you know he’ll take care of this for you soon, too. 

You press a few open mouthed kisses to the inside of his thighs, one hand wrapping around his cock and giving it a few slow strokes. Your hand can’t even wrap around his girth fully. He twitches underneath your touch. Osamu cups one side of your face with his hand, as if he can’t go a second without some form of contact, now that you both crossed that line. His breath is labored and his hips buck a little with every little caress of yours. 

“Yer killin’ me,” he sighs, his Kansai dialect becoming more prominent the more aroused he gets. His thumb traces the shape of your lips, coaxing them to open for him, now two fingers pressing in the cave of your mouth till you’re drooling. Your lipstick leaves faint marks on his skin when you trail your kisses up his abdomen. “Fuck, baby…” 

You spit on his cock and Osamu gives himself a few quick strokes. He looks like he’s barely keeping it together, still trying to act well-mannered, as if you weren’t silently pleading with your eyes only for him to wreck you.

He curses again under his breath and bends over till he’s hovering over you, two fingers tipping your chin up. Your first kiss is as messy and hungry as you imagined it to be, licking, biting, sucking till you’re moaning into his mouth and clawing against his thick thighs. There’s a thin string of salvia connecting you when he pulls away again. You briefly wonder if he mentally filed this under ‘proper manners’ too–always kiss your girl adoringly before making her choke on your cock. 

“C’mon now, sweet girl,” he coaxes you, gently guiding you towards his crotch with a hand tangled in your hair. “Be good for me, will ya? So fucking good for me.” His voice is low and hoarse, his cock leaking precum. Both of you know he won’t last long; he’s already on the edge of coming undone just from the sight of you on your knees in front of him.

When you take him down your throat, his head tips back and he lets out the most guttural moan. You show no mercy on him, your tongue swirling slowly around his tip before you swallow him whole. Your nose is nestled in his pubes as you glance up at him to make sure he’s watching, small tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. He collects them with his thumb and smears them mixed with some mascara across your face.

“Attagirl,” he praises you, his cock twitching in your mouth. By now he hasn’t cum yet out of sheer willpower and the desire to see you a little longer like this, as if you’re a fever dream that’s about to vanish the second he spills himself down your throat. 

You run your tongue over a prominent vein and Osamu growls, his knuckles white from how tight he is gripping the counter. Maybe it’s you who is dreaming. Sucking your boss off in your tiny kitchen wasn’t on your schedule when you got up this morning, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. You wonder if he’ll fuck you against the wall next or if he’s gonna have the decency to carry you over to the bed first. Either way you don’t see yourself walking anytime soon after this night. 

As you go on, Osamu’s breath is coming out in small huffs now, his nose scrunched up while he watches his cock disappear between your swollen lips. He never fully allowed himself to think about this, but now that he had you like that–fuck, he’ll never let you go. Yeah, he’s gonna keep you on your knees forever till your body remembers the shape of him. Fuck. 

“Baby… ‘m so close,” Osamu growls, a low warning. He taps your jaw with his fingers again, a sign for you to let go of him. It didn’t strike him as good manners to make an entire mess out of you the first time you blow him, and he wants you to remember him as a decent man (as decent as pining after your half-your-age employee can be). However he underestimated your determination to stubbornly refuse his request, making yourself gag a bit harder on his cock. Osamu’s hips jerk forwards involuntarily and he groans, barely keeping his composure. 

“Fuck,” he cusses under his breath, your hands now on his sides, steading yourself as you take him down your throat, your eyes fluttering up at him. The last bit of his carefully maintained self-restraint snaps. Osamu’s hands now find the back of your head, keeping it steady so you won’t have a chance of pulling back, then he slams his cock hard between your parted lips until you’re whimpering and coughing around his length. “Cumming, baby, ‘m cumming, so fucking tight for me, fuck–” 

He spills himself inside your mouth, the most primal moan leaving his lips. He’s trembling, his hips stuttering, thick cum spurting seemingly with no end, emptying himself into you. It’s dizzying. His breath is labored once he slides his softening cock out of your mouth.

“Shit, ‘m sorry,” he mutters, reaching behind him for a paper towel and dropping to his knees, holding it out for you. He brushes a few strands of hair out of face, trying hard not to think about how much he likes this fucked out expression on you. “Just spit it out, sweetheart. ’s okay. I was a little too rough, hm?”

What Osamu doesn’t expect is you opening up wide, sticking out your tongue. Spotless. 

You swallowed it all. Swallowed everything he gave you. His cock twitches back to life. 

“Little minx,” he growls, cupping your chin and towering over you. He spits in your mouth and watches you swallow it, again. It’s making him feel lightheaded. He should’ve done this sooner, he thinks. Making you take everything he has to offer and more. 

One of his hands wander underneath that flimsy skirt you’re wearing. He finds you dripping. A corner of his mouth twitches up in a lopsided smirk, a hint of something more sinister. His eyes darken a little. You mewl when he pushes your soaked panties aside to run a finger between your slit before bringing it to his lips, tasting you. You’re even sweeter than he imagined.

Oh, he’s gonna devour you. 

“Sweetheart. Be a good girl and spread your legs.”

a/n: osamu loving demon possessed me idk. i usually don't write part twos for my oneshots but for this one i could be sweet talked into it

[castiwls]

invisible string .ᐟ

Paring; anakin x reader

Prompt; 'And isn't it just so pretty to think. All along there was some Invisible string tying you to me?'

Requested; anon

Notes; reqs and inbox are open !

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

Fate wasn’t something you truly believed in. The force sure, but fate? That was something children were told to help keep them optimistic or explain coincidences which were just slightly too perfect - parental intervention or not.

Things happened for a reason - but fate was not a reason.

Anakin Skywalker however seemed to be determined to make you believe that fate was real and that it was fate that the two of you ended up in the hallway and the same time at the exact moment a droid decided to trip you up and right into his arms.

Of course, you’d heard of him but you’d never met him. Your master had once described life as being led by a little golden string. Every event was linked and sometimes some people's strings intertwined together when those people were meant to meet.

Anakin seemed convinced that your strings were meant to intertwine and he was doing everything he could to make sure you knew this. First, it was the fact that you were both born on Tatooine and then it became the fact that you both were in the same youngling group (you never spoke) and finally the fact that you both just happened to have quarters in the same wing.

You continued to push that “it’s just a coincidence. It’s not fate, we’re the same age of course we’d be in the same temple group.” Every time Anakin would simply laugh before shrugging and making a comment about how. “A coincidence is fate.” He’d grin wrapping an arm over your shoulder and joining you on whatever errand you were running.

Though Anakin Skywalker was anything if not determined. And he was determined to make you see that your meeting was years in the making - every little action had led to your strings intertwining more and more until that one day in the corridor. 

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Can I help?” You jumped slightly as a voice broke through the silence and you whipped around to find Anakin grinning back at you, half his body hidden behind the door frame. 

“How did you even find me?” 

“I have my ways.”

“You asked half the temple didn't you?”

“...No” 

You huffed as he stepped closer to where you were currently sat hunched over a droid which you’d spent the last three hours trying to fix. “You look a bit stuck there.” Anakin gestured to the parts strewn all over the floor before crouching down to pick one up. 

“Use this. It’s easier to tighten the smaller bolts.” He pressed the tool into your hand with a small smile. You frowned blinking at him for a moment before nodding and taking the tool. “Thanks.” You did as he said and quickly found him to be right. 

The bolt tightened almost immediately and Anakin made a small noise of satisfaction as you stared down at the bolt. You’d spent the last half an hour trying to get the damn thing to tighten and he’d solved it in less than a minute.

“See. Like I said, much easier.” He squeezed your shoulder before moving to sit down properly beside you. “Here.” He reached over to gently take the tool and the droid. “Let me.” 

He worked in relative silence for a while as you watched. “Why are you so obsessed with the idea of befriending me?” Your words surprised you - the thought not meant to have left your lips but Anakin simply smiled. 

“Because, I think you're an interesting person.” His shoulder bumped yours “And like I said it does seem kinda like fate that we just happened to have so much in common before we even spoke.” You huffed rolling your eyes as he laughed quietly.

“Remember that little thread that we were taught about?”

“Of course I do.”

“Yeah, that little thread is like fate-”

“Anakin-”

He simply cut you off placing the droid down. “I like you. And I don’t think it's a coincidence that we met.” You pursed your lips. He really wasn’t going to leave this alone. “It’s too perfect that we just happen to be from the same town and spent most of our childhoods in the same environment and never met. I think we were meant to meet when we did.”

You sucked in a breath watching him for a moment. You could almost hear the passion in his words almost. He really believed in this - that for whatever reason you were fated to meet.

“Let me prove it to you. Give me a month.” Anakin offered turning to face you fully. “Prove to you that the story about those strings was true.”

[frostara]

Challenges

Cregan Stark x Karstark!Female

Synopsis: It takes some time to get to know each other, and lots of words to understand.

Wordcount: 2k

Tags: characters miscommunicate at first, but overall fluff, Cregan is 17, Astrid is 15

Notes: Hi! This could be read as chapter 2 for this work, but does pretty well on its own. All thanks to one person who asked for a second part - I hope you'll like it </3 I wanted to describe Cregan and Astrid the way they are - youthful people, with their own beliefs that are sometimes wrong (Astrid is so silly I love her) and quick to change temper. I worked on this drabble a little harder and hopefully, it was worth it!

Winterfell was like a living being—always alert and ready, yet calm and composed. It thrived with the quiet bustle of its people, the rustle of dry bushes, and cold of its stone walls. A guarded place, where the only thing Astrid had to worry about was herself. At least for now.

One moon have passed since she was wed to the Lord of the Winterfell, and yet, she felt rather wary of him. Cregan, whom she called so yet in her mind, was always surrounded by either maister-at-arms or castellan, which left her seeking his attention that he could not give.

Though, Astrid would be forever ungrateful if said that she was entirely alone. She had grown quite fond of maester Alvin, an old grey-haired man, but skilled and cunning like no one. He often inquired after her well-being with genuine courtesy and shared his wise thoughts, for which she was forever grateful.

Yet the companionship of one old master could not fill the void of loneliness. Her handmaidens, taught to serve their lady quietly, rarely spoke unless adressed directly. To make them speak freely was a challenge, but one she welcomed.

"My Lady, Lord Cregan sent me to let it be known that he awaits you in Godswood, and I am to accompany You on Your way," said Ethel as she entered chambers after a gentle knock. She was a pretty girl, not much older than Astrid, and probably the one she was fond of.

"Right. Well then, let us not keep the Lord waiting," - Astrid replied, standing perhaps more quickly than intended, letting Ethel drape a warm cloak over her frame to shield her from wind in this chilly weather.

As they made their way, her nervousness spilled in questions she bothered Ethel with: "Was Lord in a good mood? Did he seem upset with anything? Was he alone?" She could swear on all Old Gods that Ethel was laughing at her, but skillfully maintained her composure. Though, Astrid was too nervous to pay attention to that, pressing on. Luckily, the walk was short, and soon they were able to see the red leaves that framed the massive tree. Ethel bowed and turned her back, leaving Astrid to herself.

She took a moment to steady herself before stepping closer to where Cregan stood. She felt cold seep through her body, making her shiver. Heart tree was there, proudly emracing everything with its branches as if hiding from the sky. He looked like a real Stark, in a place he was always supposed to be. And Astrid was just a huble guest, even if being his wife. Light wind was playing with his dark hair, moving leaves casting shadows on his stern face.

"My Lord wished to see me?"

He turned to face her, his black eyes softening slightly as a polite smile tugged at his lips. "I did. I wish to know how my Lady fares."

Cregan walked towards her, and it was only then that she noticed a crimson leaf he was holding in his hand. She returned his smile, though uncertain of what to say. He seemed to be unbothered by silence that layed between them, as he studied her appearance. During their wedding he barely payed attention to her. Perhaps, that was why he was observing her so carefully now.

"I am very happy to be here," - Astrid nodded to her words, as if to make sure he believed her. "Winterfell does not cease to amaze me."

Cregan hummed to himself, not really putting his mind to her words. He seemed lost in thoughts, and these thoughts were far away from here. Far from her. She felt subtle sting in her when she thought of it. Why did he call her, if he still did not care about her being?

He was still holding the leaf in his callused hands, twirling it with his fingers when he brought it to her, putting it in her braided hair.

"Red suits you well. Has anyone told you that before?"

He murmured, seeming to be pleased with his work, running his fingers along her braid, his lingering touch leaving Astrid speechless. Her eyes widened as she tried to hide her confusion. He was gentle, almost reverent, and it warmed her heart in a way she never felt before. Was this the first time he truly saw her as a wife?

"No, my Lord. I believe you are the first to notice."

Cregan took his hand away from her hair, offering his elbow for her to grab. "Very well. Let us walk, I would not wish for you to get cold while standing here," - as he put his hand on his sword.

Astrid hesitated a moment before wrapping her fingers around his clothed arm, feeling the soft fur and fabric of his cloack, contrasting with his cold and rough to touch sword, accepting the offer. It pleased her more than she cared to admit to spend time with him in the godswood, a sacred place. Though it was still a mystery to her, what made him be so attentive to her today?

It was very quiet there, only rare birds chirping and leaves rustle could be heard. Astrid took a deep breath, enjoying frosty and fresh air that smelled of wood and earth. She found this moment very peaceful, this walk was a sweet gesture and it was not nice of her to doubt her husbands kindness.

"I have been thinking about our marriage," Cregan began after a while. "It seems to me that I have not fulfilled my duties to you. For this, I ask your understanding, and, perhaps, your forgiveness."

Cregan turned his gaze to her, awaiting what she has to say. She was now taken aback by his words. A suspicious thought was starting to form in her head - his previous behaviour could not be judged, it fitted his position. But these gentle words now were not sounding like the ones he would actually say. An odd feeling took place in her, yet, she could only listen to him right now.

"It is no secret to me how tiring your position may be," she started carefully. "And I could never hold it against you."

She studied his face, searching for any sign of anger or discomfort. Yet a gnawing curiosity urged her to push further. Astrid evased any other words from him, now being curious to get an answer for her thoughts:

"My Lord, if I may ask, did someone suggest that you speak to me like that?" - she stopped, making her husband follow her action, now facing each other. He was confused, and he could not hide that, making it obvious he was not prepared for such confrontation. Astrid believed there was also a hint of irritation in his expression.

"In what way are you implying this?" he asked, his tone guarded but lacking the harshness she feared.

Cregan even forgot to adress her properly. It made Astrid smile ever so slightly, now making her scared that she could offend him with her words.

"Do not misunderstand me, my Lord, but your actions are...rather opposing your character, which makes me suggest that you might have sought an advice about our relationship from someone."

She tried her best to sound friendly and not too arrogant, but confused look on his face eased her worries - he probably could not be angry with her now, that he looked so amusing. Astrid awaited patiently, when he finally spoke up.

"First of all, do not jest with me in such a way," he replied, his voice firm but lacking true anger. "I may be your husband, but my behavior is none of yours to question."

He glanced away, looking in direction of a bird that landed on a low-hanging branch nearby. The pause gave Astrid a moment to collect herself, and she only smiled at her thoughts, now being more confident to continue.

"Forgive me," her tone sincere. "I only wanted to make sure I understood the situation well." She reached out, lightly tugging on his sleeve to draw his attention back to her. The gesture startled him, and instinctively, he caught her hand in his. For a moment, they stood frozen, her smaller hand caught in his. He did not let go, and his grip, though firm, was not harsh.

Wind sent another gust as couple of bright red leaves fell from tree, falling at their legs. Laying onthe ground, they could be mistaken for small pools of blood. It sent a shiver down Astrid's spine, the movement was visible for Cregan. It made him snap from frozen state as he let her hand hung in the air, bringing his own to his sword, slight embarrasment from an intimate moment made him cough, as if to shift their attention away.

But Astrid still was confused. Was she right then? Perhaps, her behaviour made it impossible for her Lord to seek her company? She felt nervousness fill her heart once again, making her clasp her hands together on stomach, as if trying to calm herself down.

"Maester Alvin is someone you could consider guilty," Cregan's voice cut through silence, breaking the formed pause.

"Though, I believe, his intentions were kind."

"Should I be grateful for it then?" she bit on her inner cheeck, fidgeting with cold fingers. Astrid felt emarrased: she probably looked so stupid right now; her concern made her act very rude, or atleast, that is what she believed.

"You could at least try to not to be mad at me."

He rubbed the back of his neck, as if looking for the right words. The situation they currently trapped themselves in was quite awkward. Astrid hummed softly at his words in an attemp to answer, but words would get stuck in her throat.

"I am not mad, my Lord" - it was all she could mutter, before quickly facing him away. She was definetly not acting like a modest lady right now. But who was to blame for that?

"Cregan."

Astrid blinked, turning her head back at her husband.

"Call me by my name. You are my wife, you have such right." He shrugged, an unsure smile tugging at his lips.

This time, he held out his hand to her.

"I believe we will have many days to continue this argument, if you wish that," she took his hand, now holding it gently, but with a firm grip, returning his favour as she unconsciously smiled herself.

"But we had spent more than we should have time here. Let us head back to castle, before anyone starts looking for us."

Their way back was more pleasant, as the silence that followed them was now a welcomed one, sometimes interrupted with quiet laughter.

[ylangelegy]

LOVE&LETTER REPACKAGE ୨ৎ my favorite SVT work from 2024!

i'm a firm believer that some of the most creative writers on the internet are on svtblr. couldn't let the year end without showing love for the fics that have set the bar impossibly high when it comes to writing for SEVENTEEN. thank you to all writers for making this corner of the internet such a great place to be! ❤︎

footnotes: some of these work may contain explicit content. please heed the warnings when checking them out.

hush by @sailorrhansol

You can’t seem to sleep, but the strange man in the bar that you can’t visiting promises he can help.

hali's entire body of work is awe-inspiring, and i personally believe hush is something of a magnum opus. there's just so much density in all of her verses but hush does something that's never-before-seen when you think of this genre. it's so easy to lose yourself in the liminality of this work— throw in the premise and the dynamics, and you've got a breathtaking example of creative writing at its finest.

achilles’ heel by @pochaccoups

after a knee surgery, your boyfriend feels off about his body. you’re determined to show him just how much you love it.

sometimes, you can just tell when a writer cares about the character/member they're writing about. that's 100% the case with achilles' heel. it's one thing to nail seungcheol's personality; it's another thing to treat him with such well-deserved consideration. the smut is terrific, yes, but so is the love. you know that any version of seungcheol is in good hands when char is writing him.

full throttle (part one & two) by @diamonddaze01

jeonghan's not used to someone who pushes his buttons as easily as you do, and you're not used to someone who challenges you as quickly as he does. maybe it's time to go full throttle, both on and off the track.

i like to think that even if i didn't know tara, i would be absolutely insane over full throttle. there's a mix of everything here— fast-paced races for formula one fans, killer lines that read like poetry, and a full spectrum of human emotion. you're on the edge of your seat the entire ride. journalist!reader may be the best writer in the paddock, but tara is the best writer on this site.

the first snow by @junkissed

you think of joshua every time it snows. but does he think of you, too?

i feel like june has mastered the art of hook, line, and sinker. the first line of this draws you in— come for the opener, stay for the writing. this is a brilliant play on a known trope, and i was particularly endeared by how snow was used both in the literal and figurative/metaphorical sense. in love with how descriptive it was, too.

chemistry read by @chanranghaeys

in which junhui’s casting director gets a little bit too jealous during a chemistry read.

chemistry read is the probably the most recent work in this list. as of posting, i am still thinking of just how well haneul nailed jun's personality. there's something to be said about the relatively unconventional pairing— actor x actor fics are to be expected, so a casting director!reader is a rare treat— but the dynamics of their relationship is the real clincher. haneul has a way of writing things that leaves you wanting more, and this is a prime example.

araneae by @haologram

when you realize your friend (with benefits) actually has feelings for you, a tangled web of lies and avoidance ensues.

altair's treatment of soonyoung in this fic should set a precedent for how to write him across the board. the push and pull in araneae is superb, and the reader has the perfect amount of bite. i'm obsessed with the conflict and how it's eventually resolved, though what gets me the most is just how hoshi-like soonyoung is in this au. 10/10, no notes.

in front of me (part one & two) by @wonustars

jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolescence and early adulthood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.

in front of me is a study into the human condition. not a single word in this 40k+ word fic goes to waste. it's an emotional rollercoaster from start to finish, particularly because there's a rawness to the conflicts and relationships that it presents. anna deserves all the flowers for putting out such a real piece of work; in front of me is her heart on a platter, and it just goes to show that her heart is a good one.

wonwoo + ramen by @fxstpace

“i want ramen,” you say in response to his question. “i’m really hungry.”

i've told aspen this, but this drabble is one of the first things i read when i made this blog! i adore how soft this piece is, and how she managed to encapsulate an entire relationship in a handful of words. the dialogue and rapport is riveting; the image put in your mind is a comfort. we may not always have a jeon wonwoo to cook for us, but at least we have aspen's writing to get us by.

first snow by @cxffecoupx

lee jihoon + sharing a warm kiss during the first snow of the season.

drabble-writing is a monster in its own right, but ris coasts through it with ease. sometimes, a fic can fall under the 'healing' category, and that's what first snow is. four hundred something-words of the kindness that jihoon deserves, wrapped up prettily in a story brimming with affectionate and domesticity. doesn't matter that it's a winter fic; the love here is for all seasons.

dressing as winx—musa for jihoon's birthday & god of the music!woozi x fairy of the music!reader by @hoshifighting

after a moment of lost creativity, the god of music accidentally evokes a beautiful music fairy who is willing to help him.

i've said it once, and i'll say it again, and again, and again: lyla is a cornerstone when it comes to svtblr. her work is astounding and this is one of my favorites from this year. the writing for the ask is terrific in itself, but the au where jihoon is god of the music? cherry on top. i'm always awed by how she can take a prompt and run with it; these two pieces are just proof of why she's an absolute paragon for writing, smut or not.

boyfriend shaped by @seokminfilm

Dinner with your boyfriend was something you looked forward to.

something about kindergarten teacher!seokmin just bowls me over. this is a lovely ode to the absolute sweetheart that is seokmin, and it scratches the itch of his influx of boyfriend material photos. his personality is characterized so well in this; overall, it's the type of fic that has you swooning.

stuff to talk about by @kkaetnipjeon

The sight in front of you is pitiful, honestly. Makes you wish you'd just sent Hansol straight to voicemail, like you usually do. Makes you wish you hadn't responded to that anonymous post on the student forum four years ago. Physical therapy grad student, male, 23, looking for roommate in Yeonnam area, open to all.

i fear that i've spent the past weeks screaming in my tags about how MJ is one of my favorite writers as of late, and this is the fic that started it all. i've sent this out to at least three different people, which should say just how much i adore it. the world-building is intricate. the pacing is exquisite. the dialogue is a living, breathing thing, and the characters are well-rounded from start to finish. MJ's entire masterlist is worth running through; stuff to talk about is the best place to begin.

late night talking by @junkissed

the best and worst conversations always happen at 1am.

a masterclass in writing xu minghao. late night talking is rich in emotion and dialogue, but the heart of it is in how it soothes aches that can be universal to anyone who has loved/lost/tried/failed. there's a certain vulnerability to writing angst that can be terrifying, and june put it best when i first expressed how much i love this fic: "if everybody has the same insecurities, then maybe the world is a kinder place than we all think." how lucky are we to exist in a time where someone like june can put these feelings into words.

an ode to hands and voice by @ddeonghwa-s

a moment of seungkwan fucking you, inspired by his hands and voice.

there's a lot to love in an ode to hands and voice. it's descriptive and evocative, and just overall stellar in how it handles seungkwan. what makes this so special is the intimacy which bleeds through all 1.3k words. there's some parts where you feel like you're intruding, like you're interrupting something, because the entire scene is executed beautifully.

reverb by @gyuhao5

In his clumsy attempts at trying to befriend you, Vernon slowly discovers that the pull he feels toward you might be more than purely friendly.

one of my favorite things is when writers take on vernon and you can hear his voice in the dialogue. reverb nails everything from his mannerisms to his tone, and the eventual smut is also just painfully accurate for what you might expect from him. overall: this is as vernon as vernon will get, if we're talking fanfiction.

untitled drabble by @seungcheorry

dino will be damned if he doesn't spend some time with you.

cherry's drabbles are as good as required readings if we're talking about svtblr greats. this piece in particular is short and sweet, but it packs all the right punches. the narrative choices in this— paired with the imagery and the tenderness— can truly steal the air out of your lungs. dinonaras beware; this one will do a number on you.

MORE & MORE & MORE!

seungcheol with a s/o that enjoys thrifting by cxffecoupx

seventeen as greek demigods (hyung + maknae) by chugging-antiseptic-dye

redemption (mingyu x reader) by gyubakeries

hockey player cheol x reader by thepixelelf

run (minghao x reader) by diamonddaze01

a regular korean citizen (jeonghan x reader) by chanranghaeys

childhoodbestie!chan x reader by gotta-winwin

green eyes and confessions (wonwoo x reader x mingyu) by svtiddiess

inside job (seokmin x reader) by seokgyuu

the alchemy (seungcheol x reader) by babyleostuff

staff!jeonghan x reader by hoshifighting

dove (minghao x reader) by cherryredcheol

[hannahbarberra162]

Will EP omega reader meet the whitebeard pirates? How would shanks react?

Hi Nonnie!

This was originally the trajectory before I decided to take it in a different direction. Not all the WBP since this story is set after the Paramount Wars and they’re disbanded but I was going to have the Reader meet Marco….

This is an alternate ending so not as proofread / edited. This is set after Reader has come to from the heat (you’ll get that scene in the next chapter - which, yes, I am writing). Shanks is a bad boy in this one, don't come for me.

I'm not gonna do the tag list for this (except @mfreedomstuff ) since it's not a chapter of the main story. I do have a few more ideas / scenes I thought of for this maybe I'll write them eventually.

All the actual chapters

~

Shanks POV

Your first heat had gone well by Shanks’s estimation. The physical demands were rough on you, you had been sleeping and eating in excess since it ended to make up for the days on end with little of either. He’d also had to recuperate after your heat but because you began heat in a worse state it was taking you longer to get to your baseline. He checked on you every hour or so as you slept, bringing you food and water as you needed it. You protested with a groan as he checked your temperature and breathing but allowed him to move you as he pleased like a limp rag doll. 

There was one thing that bothered him though - the bite mark from Kid still hadn’t healed. He’d given you his word during the heat that he wouldn’t claim you but he didn’t like seeing the bite from your former Alpha. He’d already spoken with Hongo about it already but the doctor said there wasn’t anything to do except wait.

Unless.

Shanks had known Marco the Phoenix since he was a child, the former Commander slipping in and out of his life like the tide. They weren’t friends exactly but Shanks had offered Marco the opportunity to join his crew many times. He’d slept with Marco a few times over the years and Shanks deeply enjoyed the experience - though they sometimes fought for dominance.

But there was something in Shanks that had always wanted to bring Marco to heel. Marco acted like he was above Shanks, like he was better than him. He always had too, enjoying being the golden child of Whitebeard for years after Shanks had to watch his own Captain publicly executed by Marines. Even after Whitebeard’s death Marco hadn’t joined Shanks’s crew which stung his ego. It didn't help that Marco’s Zoan form had an ethereal beauty like no other and it only elevated his charm and charisma. Marco was powerful, strong, handsome and well respected outside of his piracy for his skills as a physician. Unlike others, Marco wasn't fooled by Shanks's games and lackadaisical attitude and saw right through him. No, Marco needed to be shown his place in the world but the opportunity hadn’t arisen. 

Regardless, Marco could heal the bite on your neck in seconds if he visited the ship. Mulling over the idea, Shanks decided to call and see if Marco could fly out. The ship wasn’t that far from Sphinx, Marco could make the trip quickly if he so chose. Grabbing his snail off his desk, he dialed and waited.

“Oi, Marco. How are you?” Shanks asked the calm looking snail as the call was picked up.

“Shanks, to what do I owe the pleasure yoi? What do you want from me?” Marco responded dryly, already anticipating a request. The snail was looking over at something else as Marco continued to work through the call.

“Maybe I just want to see how you’re doing, call up an old friend,” Shanks teased before turning serious. “I am happy to hear you’re doing well, but you’re right, I need a favor. I have an Omega on my ship and she has a wound that’s not healing -”

“Is it not healing or not healing fast enough for you yoi?” the Phoenix interrupted, still not giving Shanks his full attention as he continued to read. Shanks’s irritation was rising but he buried it deep, he wanted Marco’s help.

“It was an infected claiming bite that didn’t take. She just went through heat and it was bothering her, she kept rubbing at it until it was raw. I had to Command her to stop before she left it alone. She’s still recovering - her previous Alpha beat the shit out of her, she was barely alive when I found her,” Shanks said with a frown on his face. Marco was a lot softer than people knew - he was sympathetic to weaker people suffering at the hands of those who were stronger. Shanks knew adding in the bits about your status would tip the scales in his favor. The snail sighed and looked at Shanks with its heavy lidded stare.

“How is she now?” Marco asked, the doctor in him rising to the surface. Shanks gloated internally as he knew he had Marco hook, line, and sinker.

“She’s sleeping a lot, eating when she wakes. It was her first heat - she’d been taking suppressants for years on end so it was particularly rough. I think she’d return to normal faster if she wasn’t also healing the bite,” Shanks mused aloud, knowingly ensnaring the former Commander further.

“Hm. And I suppose you want me to come heal her despite the fact that Hongo likely told you to wait it out yoi,” Marco said with a frown. Shanks smiled brightly, Marco correctly guessing the desired outcome.

“Well, if you’re offering…” Shanks said, letting the sentence dangle. He waited in silence, knowing Marco was going to accept.

“Where are you?” Marco asked in a huff, crossing his arms.

“Not too far from Sphynx, maybe a day’s flight away,” Shanks said jovially. 

“Fine. Head towards the island, I’ll get the coordinates from Benn. You owe me.” Marco said with finality before hanging up the snail. Shanks’s smile widened even further.

Your POV

You heard an unfamiliar male voice near the entrance of the cabin. New men weren’t something with a positive association for you but this voice was melodious, almost like a bird song, the person speaking with soothing calm. Listening in, you heard the Emperor speaking to the man like they were old friends. A knock on the cabin door alerted you that they were about to come in so grabbed the blankets and pulled them up to cover your nakedness. You hadn’t worn clothes since before your heat and all that you had were the Emperor’s.

“We’re coming in,” announced the Emperor brightly. As the door opened you saw a man as tall as Benn standing behind the Emperor. His teal eyes met yours and the world stopped for a moment. You’d never seen someone so beautiful in your life, his wanted posters not capturing his true essence. You knew it was Marco the Phoenix but you couldn’t bring yourself to say a single word. You nearly uncovered yourself to walk to him but stopped yourself at the last moment. He wasn’t speaking to you either, standing in shocked silence by the doorway with a stethoscope wound around his neck.

The Emperor looked between you and Marco and started talking but you weren’t listening. All you wanted to do was talk to Marco, to bare your soul to him, even though you’d never met before. He smelled like coconut, pineapple and a touch of spiced rum. You had the urge to lick his scent glands, to bask in the glorious smell of this Alpha. You’d never felt this way with any other Alpha - certainly not with Kid but also not with the Emperor. He walked towards you hesitantly, like you’d bolt if he moved too quickly. You watched his graceful movements as Marco approached, entranced by his very being. The Emperor suddenly put two fingers under your chin and tilted your face to his own. 

“Have you met Marco already?” he asked with a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. You noted his stiff shoulders and dominant body language. The Emperor was annoyed and in a dangerous mood, you thought to yourself. Marco forgotten for the moment, you nuzzled into his hand - an act that he’d praised you for before.

“N-no. I was just distracted,” you said quickly, afraid to admit you were staring at the handsome stranger. Your proactive touch mollified the Emperor somewhat as he dragged his thumb up and down your cheek.

“I apologize for startling you yoi. Like Shanks said, I’m Marco. I’m a doctor -”

“And a pirate,” Shanks added, giving Marco a smirk. Marco gave the Emperor a disdainful look.

“Yes, and a pirate yoi. I used to be Whitebeard’s First Division Commander, but that’s in the past. Now I’m just a doctor,” Marco said with a calm smile. 

“I’m not so sure, maybe we can finally convince you to join our ranks after all,” Shanks continued, giving Marco a strange look. Marco returned Shanks’s look with one of his own. You weren’t sure what was being communicated between the two men but you didn’t want to be in the middle of it. Cringing backwards, you covered yourself up further with the blankets. Marco’s gaze flicked to your face and his countenance softened. 

“It’s alright, I’m going to take a look at you yoi. I heard you have a wound that isn’t healing, is that right?” Marco said, pulling a pair of gloves from the pocket of his doctor’s coat. He sat down next to you on the bed, still towering over you with his tall frame.You nodded, moving your hair to the side so Marco could see the wound still left from Kid. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose and put on the gloves.

“I’m going to touch you now, just around the bite, OK?” he said to you softly. You nodded again and shifted towards him in the bed to allow him easier access to your neck. The Emperor moved and leaned against the opposing wall of the cabin, watching Marco’s every move with barely concealed interest. You weren’t sure what he was thinking but you hoped nothing bad came to Marco because of it.

Marco moved his fingers along the stitches Hongo had given you, pushing on the wound in a few spots. His assessment was clinical but it was the most caring anyone had touched you in a long time. He hummed to himself before placing the buds of the stethoscope in his ears. 

“I’m going to listen to your heart and lungs yoi. I’ll press the bell of the stethoscope against your skin a few times and listen, OK?” You nodded eagerly, waiting for the contact to continue. You knew what stethoscope usage entailed but it was thoughtful that Marco described what he was going to do anyway. You pulled the blankets down further than you needed to give Marco access to your chest and back.

“How’s she doing?” Shanks interrupted, sitting himself next to your other side on the bed and putting your hand in his own. Marco removed your hand and returned it to a resting position.

“Shh. I’m listening,” Marco said, dismissing the Emperor. You were sure Marco was hearing your heart beating fast from Marco rebuking the Emperor. You’d never heard anyone speak to him that way - even though his crew were relaxed and casual they always maintained an air of respect towards him. Marco on the other hand was irritated with the Emperor and didn't hesitate to make his feelings known.

Marco placed his fingertips on your back, his warm touch gentling you to the sensation of the cold stethoscope. As he listened, you saw his eyes rove over your well loved body from the heat. Your gaze dropped and your cheeks heated as you looked over all the hickeys and bite marks over your front from your heat with the Emperor.

“One more deep breath, there we go,” Marco said soothingly, rubbing a small circle on your back. You did as he said and he removed the stethoscope from his ears.

“I can heal the wound yoi. Like I already said, it was healing just fine on its own. You were too rough with her during her heat. Look at her, she’s covered in bruises and bites. If she’s already healing wounds you shouldn’t add more. Control yourself,” Marco continued, giving the Emperor a dirty look. You hugged your knees with your arms and ducked your head for the ensuing confrontation.

But none ever came. Instead you heard the Emperor’s laugh ring out in the cabin.

“Eh, it was more difficult than I thought. Would you care to find out?” 

Marco POV

There was no doubt in his mind the cowering little Omega was his fated mate. He wondered if you could feel the connection too but given your acute distress and prior experiences he doubted it. He felt a pull to you, he was drawn to you like a moth to a flame. It was like some missing piece of him had settled in his soul and he was finally complete, after looking for something he didn’t know was gone. You were absolutely breathtaking, even littered in the evidence of harsh treatment by other Alphas. His first instinct had been to whisk you away on the wings of the Phoenix far from Shanks, back to his home on Sphynx where he could claim you and keep you safe. Alas, things would not be so simple in the real world.

Your scent soured as Shanks extended Marco a crass invitation to have sex with you. Marco highly doubted that he’d shared you before - Shanks was covetous and jealous by nature. Even now while Marco was attending to you as a medical professional Shanks was inserting himself unnecessarily to gain your attention. Shanks hid his true colors under the guise of an easy going and amicable nature but Marco knew better. He was cold and calculating, always seeking what he didn’t have. Which is why he’d never joined Shanks’s crew despite the many offers or dallied with him more than a few times. Shanks never let something that he wanted slip through his fingers and Shanks wanted Marco.

Marco’s hackles rose but he pushed the feeling down. He needed to play nicely with Shanks and think his plans through before he acted. No matter what Shanks did or said, Marco wasn’t strong enough to take him on. He’d lived with an Emperor for long enough to know that Shanks was in a class of his own and even the Immortal Phoenix could be killed by his hands. Instead, Marco put his hand on your shoulder and stood up, inserting himself between you and the Emperor.

“I’ll heal her now then let’s chat outside for a few minutes yoi,” he said to Shanks with a neutral expression. He turned to you and gave you a warm smile, trying to convey his love and kindness in a single facial expression. He thought he saw the flicker of a smile on your sweet mouth.

“I’m going to use my Devil Fruit powers to heal you. It won’t hurt so you don’t need to worry,” Marco said, already trying to heal your growing anxiety. You nodded at him and your shoulders relaxed slightly, revealing the ugly bite on your neck. Something part of him was pleased you weren’t claimed by Shanks but Marco didn’t think it was due to benevolence on Shanks’s part. Marco knew you’d be claimed in the next heat whether you wanted it or not. His gift worked best on skin to skin but he didn’t want to make you too uncomfortable. 

“I’ll be on the deck. Don’t enjoy yourselves too much,” Shanks said with a wink. Marco wanted to throttle him right there - couldn’t he smell what his remarks did to you? How afraid and small they made you feel? But even so Marco was thankful for the reprieve from Shanks’s presence. The Captain swaggered away after patting your head like a beloved dog, slamming the door to the cabin behind him.

“Nothing is going to happen that I haven’t already told you. I’m going to heal you with my powers and that will be all. I do have to touch you and it works best if it’s nearest to the injury. May I heal your neck?” Marco explained in a calm and patient voice. Giving you expectations of what he would do might quell your anxiety. You nodded once more, still not speaking. Marco reached slowly for your neck, one of his hands large enough to wrap around nearly the whole thing. The other he placed on your upper back to steady your erratic breathing. In his heart he wanted to pull you in for a soul searing kiss but he’d have to deal with Shanks first.

“Easy, easy. I’m going to begin, alright? It might feel strange but it doesn’t hurt,” Marco said as his flames began to rise over your neck and upper chest. Your eyes opened wide and you tried to swivel your head as you were engulfed in his power but Marco kept you steady. “It’s alright, shh, it’s alright. Relax, just relax, nothing bad will happen yoi,” Marco cooed at you as you ceased looking around like a frightened rabbit. He didn’t want you to struggle against him, nothing in him could ever hurt you. You soon allowed him to heal you without worry, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.

Marco focused first on the bite but extended the flames to the rest of your body as well. He healed all the marks Shanks had left until there was no sign that you’d ever been intimate with the Emperor. Before removing his hand from your neck he felt something unusual.

“Do you have an old injury here yoi? To your larynx perhaps?” Marco asked quietly while palpating the area, not wanting to alarm you. You looked down and nodded again. 

“Would you like me to heal it? I’m not sure it will work completely but it may help,” Marco offered. He’d learned over the years that some people preferred their scars and marks to remain as momentos or as badges of honor. Though injuries like the one you had to your throat were rarely something worth remembering. 

“Yes, please,” you rasped. Marco tried to heal your broken vocal chords and damaged neck to the best of his ability, sending wave after wave of healing flames to the area. All too soon, the healing was complete and he had to go deal with Shanks.

“How do you feel now?” Marco asked, removing his hands completely from you. They itched to remain on your skin but he wanted to give you the space you needed.

“Much better, thank you,” you said, reaching to touch the now healed bite on your neck. He’d only heard your voice briefly when you were trying to soothe Shanks’s ego but it sounded smoother already. 

“Unfortunately it did scar a bit due to the age and severity of the injury but the scar should fade somewhat over time,” Marco said as your nimble fingers probed the area. You stretched your limbs and gave him a ghost of a smile, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Thank you Marco,” you said softly. Marco had so much he wanted to say and do but the Emperor was waiting for his audience.

“I’ll be with Shanks if you need me,” Marco said, rising from the bed. He felt your eyes watching him as he crossed the messy cabin and left, closing the door softly.

Shanks was sitting at the circular table on the deck, his ochoko filled with sake. His calves were resting on the table and his arm was behind his head in a relaxed pose as he watched the sea. To most, it would look like he didn’t have a care in the world. But Marco knew Shanks was toying with him, like a cat would a mouse before the death blow. Benn was reading the paper next to his Captain and gave Marco a pleasant nod when the two made eye contact. Marco returned it. 

“We have a lot to talk about,” Shanks said, still gazing at the sea. Benn took that as his cue to leave, folding his paper in half and tucking it under his arm. He gave Marco a clap on the shoulder as he passed.

“She had greater injuries than you told me yoi,” Marco complained as he sat down in the now unoccupied chair. 

“Yeah, she was pretty busted up when I found her. I took her from Kid - not sure if you knew him, I didn’t before then -” 

“She’s my fated mate,” Marco cut off Shanks, wanting to get to the heart of the matter. He was loath to play Shanks’s games but for now he’d have to endure. Shanks grinned a toothy smile and lifted his feet off the table, planting them on the deck. He crossed his legs at the ankles and sat up, picking up his ochoko.

“Hm, fate is a cruel mistress. Since the Celestial Dragons interfered with the mating process, fated mates have become an old wives tale, a bedtime story for children. They say when an Alpha finds their mate they would do anything to stay by their side and keep them safe. That a bonded Alpha and Omega share the same lifeline, their chests beating with the same heart. So how fitting that a myth should become real for someone so mythical,” Shanks said, swirling his sake in the small cup. The Emperor’s eyes danced with mirth as Marco watched him take a drink from the ochoko. Marco felt like a snare was tightening around his ankle, like a wild animal stuck in a trap it would never be able to get out of. 

“You’re not going to release her yoi. Are you going to claim her?” Marco asked, already knowing the answer to both questions.  

“No, she’s staying with me. As for claiming,” Shanks said before draining his cup, “I will during her next heat. But so can you.” Marco didn’t react outwardly, keeping his face still as his heart threatened to burst out of his chest. Shanks refilled his glass to the brim with sake.

“I did some research and it seems Omegas can be claimed by two Alphas. But I found out something even more interesting. Did you know Apex Alphas can claim other Alphas?” Shanks said, pouring sake into an empty ochoko. Picking it up, he extended it to Marco. The implication was clear - Marco would be able to claim you if Shanks claimed Marco. Marco would never be able to leave Shanks though he was unsure of other possible ramifications.

“We’ve had fun before, eh Marco? I think adding an Omega would be beneficial for both of us. You’d be able to stay with her, tend to her, care for her…along with my help, of course. What do you think?”

Marco knew he had only a few moments to consider the proposition or Shanks would revoke it and think of something worse. Marco tried to engineer a solution to his problem in the short time frame but Shanks had him backed into a corner. The Alpha in him couldn’t leave the Omega on the ship, he needed to be near her and protect her like he needed to breathe air. He wasn’t strong enough to challenge Shanks for her and win. He couldn’t leave her and he couldn’t take her. Marco’s eyes met Shanks’s triumphant gaze and broad smile.

Shanks had finally won.

Marco extended his hand and took the ochoko from Shanks. Every moment spent with Shanks further sealed his fate but it also brought him closer to you. 

“Welcome to the Red Haired Pirates,” Shanks said, draining his cup with a cold smile.

[sweet-s0rr0w]

⭐️🎄 Merry Christmas and happy holidays! 🎄⭐️

How do you think drarry celebrate the winter season? ♥️

Ah, Merry Christmas to you too, and thank you for the ask, which really made me smile :) I came up with about a dozen different replies, then thought the most fun way to answer would be to have a think about some of the Drarrys from my fics, and what they'd be doing over the festive period!

Drarry from Nor All That Glisters spend Christmas in Europe, or possibly up in Durham seeing Lee, who's off at uni doing Chemistry. Sometimes Harry has to work, and Draco spends a few days at the Manor, helping his mum with cutting back the Shrivelfigs, and renewing all her anti-frost charms. They'll get to the Burrow at some point, though probably on one of the quieter days; the holiday season's not the easiest for Draco, and though he'd never say it (and it's probably in his head - the Felix negative after-effects should be long worn off by now ofc), he still sometimes feels a little out of place amongst Harry's closest friends. Harry though, Draco never doubts.

Kept in Cages Drarry are in Kenya, of course, and it's Erumpent mating season, so there's plenty of work to be done keeping the local Muggles from being accidentally trampled/exploded, and fending off poachers, and not much time for festivities. I expect they do manage to do a Christmas lunch of a sort, though, with Christmas music, and probably some crackers that Ron's sent over (the kind that go bang, for the non-Brits), and green beans rather than Brussels Sprouts.

Among the Elements Drarry are definitely at the Burrow, where Scorpius is thoroughly spoiled by Molly and Narcissa both. Scorp's doing brilliantly; at three years old he's still a little dot, but bright as a button, and knows exactly how to get his way. Ron and Hermione are expecting their first now, and Draco can't help feeling nervous at the sight of her barely-visible bump, thinking about everything that happened. He doesn't say anything to Harry, who he knows is one day hoping for a sibling for Scorp, but he's not quite sure yet if that worry will ever go away.

And Waking Up Slow Drarry are at Narcissa's of course, for their three hundred and something-th Christmas dinner of the year! They try to make the real one a little more special, which usually means that Harry does end up dancing; he's getting pretty good at it now, if he does say so himself! Draco's shop reopens between Boxing Day and New Year (there's a little trade from the tourists visiting Bath over Christmas), and then they'll be locking up (and set some surreptitious warding spells) and heading off by Portkey for some sun and a well-deserved rest. They're friends with a few magical families in the local area now, and they'll all take turns to go see Narcissa while Drarry are away.

This was so much fun I cannot! Thank you so much!

Me, I've had a manic Christmas hosting many people and ferrying my children hither and thither, and staring longingly at all the brilliant works that are appearing in my ao3 inbox. I'm looking forward to finally sitting down and catching up on: soft by @garagepaperback, Falter by @skeptiquex, Better not pout by @maesterchill, The Chosen Bun by @hoko-onchi-writes... and finishing off my Christmas re-read of O Come, All Ye Faithful by @toomuchplor!

I'm actually going to tag a few friends to see if they're interested in doing this too: @tackytigerfic, @epitomereally, @fluxweeed, @citrusses, @the-starryknight, @wolfpants, @lqtraintracks, @oknowkiss (plus all tagged above ofc, and anyone else who fancies!!) - any updates from any of your Drarrys, and what they might be up to this holiday time?

[blackynsupremacy]

BEING THUGNIFICENT’S

NERDY GIRLFRIEND

HEADCANONS

pairing: thugnificent/otis jenkins x black!fem!reader

fandom: the boondocks (2005-2014)

summary: thugnificent wouldn’t be the type to easily settle down with anyone, but through your relationship, you shifted his perspective on many things.

contains: based on this request, fluff, comedy, swearing, use of the n-word, romance.

• if one could paint an image of the phrase “opposites attract”, best believe that you and thug would be the inspiration and the vision.

• thug was outgoing, flirtatious, confident, sometimes narcissistic and obnoxious, but he was real when it came it down to it. he had no shame about anything.

• no shame about his upbringing, no shame about his music, and definitely no shame about his personal life.

• he was the typical famous star that had surplus money and women flocking around. it was a fling here and a fling there.

• never a true, committed relationship.

• that all changed when he moved to woodcrest and met you.

• everyone greeted him with open arms—well, almost everyone.

• you were different from the rest of the women he met.

• you were cordial and polite, but a bit reserved. you didn’t really talk to him unless you had to.

• you heard his song “eff grandad” and you found it to be so funny.

• you didn’t throw yourself at thug and that had him piqued.

• he tried to get to know you by inviting you to a party at his mansion, but you suggested a different place. it wasn’t his style for a woman to tell him what to do.

• instead, you invited him to your favorite arcade and pizza spot across town.

• it was lowkey, so that no paparazzi would flash him.

• when it comes to any type of video games, you were competitive.

• “ahh, shit! you tryna make sure a nigga lose, huh? i got something for yo’ ass.” he’d tease as you competed in mortal kombat, maneuvering the controls to unleash an impressive power move.

• “hell, yeah! watch this.”

• you get your lick back when you pull a fatality on that man.

• he was shocked!

• you were talking all kinds of shit—which he found to be sexy. he thought you were just this shy homebody, but there’s a bad ass bitch in there.

• at that moment, thug had to lock you down.

• one time you were helping him out with his hair and you wanted to watch inuyasha while you did so.

• thug tried to ask questions, but you shushed him, so you could focus.

• he didn’t really understand it, so he just watched and it all clicked.

• “hold up, hold up! you tryna tell me that dog ass nigga is really a playa’? this man really wanted an alive and dead bitch. that’s some freaky shit. i respect it though—ow!”

• you thwacked his face with a comb at that statement.

• you introduced him to naruto.

• “so if that little blonde nigga become the hokage? is he gonna get all the hoes in his village?”

• dragon ball z is definitely his favorite. it’s a staple for him.

• he also likes sailor moon, but he sure as hell won’t tell you that.

• sometimes, you both binge watch, he’d invite the lethal interjection crew over to watch, or he’d do it alone.

• depending on the show, he prefers sub over dub.

• he loves to hear you spew facts and theories. he even has his own.

• sometimes you’d have debates on certain characters. ya’ll once had an argument on who could kick the most ass between superman and batman.

• got him so heated he literally made an unreleased diss track about superman.

• he spoils you with merchandise! if you even mention interest in a character, show, game, or comic, he’s going to buy stuff that’s related to it.

• hell, he even gets stuff for himself.

• he gets jealous when you simp over your fictional crushes.

• it cracks you up because you reassure him there’s no competition, it’s all for fun.

• “thuggie, don’t act like that. stop acting like you weren’t tripping over storm from x-men.”

• you clocked that tea really quick.

• he finds it sexy when you cosplay his fictional crushes.

• “hell yeah, baby! turn around for thugnificent, goddamn!”

• you like to spend quiet time with him by reading a manga or comic.

• it calms him when you guys watch studio ghibli movies.

• your best vacation spots are london, japan, universal studios, and disney world.

• you would randomly quote lines or make references, he’d just go along with it.

• he’d make references in his bars while in the studio.

• you’d be the first to listen and he’d respectfully ask for your feedback only, no one else’s!

• overall, he loves you and digs your overall vibe.

• you’re his nerd and he’s your thug.

[kawoala]

meeya i have a rq🙂‍↕️ HEAR ME OUT meeting ushijima at a ski resort or on the slopes

𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀 not creepy! word count ; (562) content warning ; (i’ve never been to a ski resort so bear with me pls, short and not as good as i wanted it to be but its okay, winter lover! reader)

No matter how much anyone hates it, you will always love winter. Blankets of snow transforming familiar land into beautiful, quiet wonderlands. The crisp air outside makes being wrapped in blankets feel more luxurious. Intricate designs in windows caused by snowflakes.

Your favorite thing, though, is working at your uncle’s ski resort over christmas break. You’ve always loved snow and, in turn, you’ve always loved this ski resort. It’s just so cozy and warm and the employees are so friendly.

Your uncle doesn’t like you working ski patrol, or operating the ski lifts, so he puts you at the rental shop register, where you get to see new faces and meet new people everyday. If you could, you’d be out on the snow, helping people, but you like this job too.

As you’re finishing up with a family renting snowboards, the bell rings again, letting you know that a new customer has just entered the store.

“Thank you for renting with us,” you say to the mother. You watch her put an arm around her son and you smile. “Have a good time!”

Your gaze falls on the man that has just walked in. The first thing you notice is how tall he is. He could probably touch the ceiling if he reached his arm up— which, technically, anybody could do, since the roof is so low compared to other stores, but you’re still impressed. The second thing you notice is how handsome he is. Most guys you see here are objectively attractive— tall, nice hair, funny— but this guy is genuinely handsome.

“Hi!” You greet cheerily, involuntarily smiling a little bit too wide for your liking. “Welcome to Junji’s. What can I help you with today, sir?”

At first, he’s startled. You can understand why— sometimes you’re too loud for your own good. You let out a giggle and cover your mouth. “Sorry, that was a bit loud.” You take a dramatic deep breath and straighten your posture. “What can I help you with today, sir?”

He clears his throat and makes his way to the counter. “I need a snowboard, please.”

“You’ve come to the right place, then.” You pull the keyboard closer to you and start typing a new purchase. “Do you need boots, or did you bring your own? The boots won’t cost you anything if you need them, but they’re still just rentals, so you have to, you know, bring them back.” You look up, expecting a laugh or even a small smile, but he just stares at you.

“I brought my own boots.”

You press your lips together and nod. “Okay. Do you need a helmet?” He nods and you add it to the purchase. “We have all sorts of different boards in the store.” You gesture out to the floor of the store, where racks of snowboards stand. “Do you have a preference? If not, you can just pick one from the adults section over there.”

He picks out his board— blue and purple splatters— and you ring him up. He pays and turns to leave, but then looks at you and smiles softly. “Thank you. Have a good rest of your day.”

You smile back, giving him a small wave. “You too.” And no, it’s not creepy when you check the name on the card he paid with to stalk him on instagram later.

[sufferu]

Do you think there's any specific reason why the damage Arc 2 has done to Subaru's mental health gets played down so much or less attention than it should? Maybe it's because Subaru has consciously chosen to forgive everyone involved in what happened to him during it (even if he's still subconsciously traumatized), or because the anime doesn't highlight enough just how bad it affects his mental state or just because the next two Arcs after this are just so blatantly horrible that what happens to him previously just fades from your memory, but its honestly a little weird to me just how much it gets overlooked and maybe almost even annoying sometimes, but that Arc is HORRIFIC in what actually happens to him, and I think it says a lot that this is the Arc that debatably produced the most mentally ill version of Subaru we have in a Sin Route at its divergent point (the other challenger for the #1 spot being Gluttony).

Honestly — and I say this with love — the reason why Arc 2 gets downplayed so much seems pretty simple to me: everybody loves Rem.

The vast majority of the Re:Zero fandom absolutely adores Rem, and even those outside of Re:Zero-specific spaces at least know who she is. It’s to the point where her diehard fans are practically funding the entire show. And the image of her that’s been popularized is the image of herself that she spends Memory Snow and Arc 3 using to appeal to Subaru: a playful, loyal, soft-spoken, pure-hearted maiden who will be at his beck and call whenever he needs her by his side. She’s tough, and she’s vicious, but only when her beloved Subaru is in danger and needs her help. She’s not a MONSTER.

And that makes what she does in Arc 2…awkward.

Rem bears the majority of the blame for Arc 2. Sure, there’s the mabeasts and all, but REM is the one who brutalized Subaru to the point where he 1) has nightmares over a year after the fact and 2) nearly went down arguably the worst mental spiral of all of the Sin Routes. Ram basically just enabled her, and the mabeast was more or less the catalyst that set her off. The actual trauma? That was REM. Acknowledging it as the trauma that it is necessarily means placing the blame for it on Rem, and that — really doesn’t fit with her Perfect Waifu Persona that she’s got going on.

—And of course, it doesn’t help that at this point Subaru is more or less acting as a self-insert (he arguably doesn’t actually fully step out of this role until Parent and Child in Arc 4) which means it’s pretty easy to just…ignore how he suffered here as much more than a dramatic hook. Rem is the one who matters, right? She’s the one everyone actually cares about. So — it’s fine to just squint past that little detail and move on, because Arc 3 Rem is on her way and she’s totally worth all these awkward first steps.

(Frankly I think this is also why Oboreru is the least talked about Sin Route lol, because the catalyst for that was very explicitly Subaru deciding to forgive or not forgive Rem for torturing him for several hours on end.)

[bethanydelleman]

What's your take on the Tom Bertram Is Secretly Gay Theory?

Turns out I wrote an essay on this because in my novel, Prideful & Persuaded, Tom Bertram is gay. Here it is:

Tom Bertram is not a major character in Mansfield Park. He does not feature much until the infamous Mansfield play, Lovers' Vows. Once that is over, he disappears again. His next entrance into the story is when he is gravely ill. We learn at the end that he has reformed his ways. So what do we know about Tom?

One interesting thing we know is that at least at present (Tom is 25 years old for the bulk of the book), he doesn’t have any interest in women. The lovely Mary Crawford attempts to flirt with him and fails (Ch. 7, paragraph 2). Now Mary might not be his type, but Sir Thomas does say this:

his (Henry Crawford’s) wishing to marry at all so early is recommendatory to me. I am an advocate for early marriages, where there are means in proportion, and would have every young man, with a sufficient income, settle as soon after four-and-twenty as he can. This is so much my opinion, that I am sorry to think how little likely my own eldest son, your cousin, Mr. Bertram, is to marry early; but at present, as far as I can judge, matrimony makes no part of his plans or thoughts.

Sir Thomas does not see his son displaying interest in marrying or in women in general? This is not clear but it is something I can use as support for Tom’s inclinations.

Next, we know that Tom has trouble telling if women are “in” or “out”. He has a conversation about it with Mary and Edmund. When Mary brings up this subject, Tom says, “I believe I have, but this is hardly fair; I see what you are at. You are quizzing me and Miss Anderson.” The story about Miss Anderson is that he mistook an “in” sister for an “out” sister. Interestingly, he expects Mary, with whom he has a passing acquaintance, to know this story. To me, that indicates how big a blunder he made. Again, Tom could just be careless, but it’s another possible indication that he just doesn’t pay attention to women and more importantly, which women are acceptable to flirt with and marry.

Lastly, we have Tom’s reformation:

There was comfort also in Tom, who gradually regained his health, without regaining the thoughtlessness and selfishness of his previous habits. He was the better for ever for his illness. He had suffered, and he had learned to think: two advantages that he had never known before; and the self-reproach arising from the deplorable event in Wimpole Street, to which he felt himself accessory by all the dangerous intimacy of his unjustifiable theatre, made an impression on his mind which, at the age of six-and-twenty, with no want of sense or good companions, was durable in its happy effects. He became what he ought to be: useful to his father, steady and quiet, and not living merely for himself.

Interestingly, there is no indication that he marries. This isn’t that significant, Jane Austen also does not tell us the eventual fate of Georgiana, Kitty, or Mary in Pride & Prejudice, and we can assume that all of them marry, but again, it’s a possible clue.

Lastly, we have the play, but more than that, the fact that this is the only time, pre-illness, that Tom is willingly at home for an extended period of time. Tom is always away from home, either at the races or hanging out with friends at party places like Weymouth. When he returns from Antigua, he’s off again right away, but when he comes with Yates and convinces the other young people to put on a play, he stays. Why?

It’s possible that Tom wants to simply escape the responsibility of home (which Edmund always takes over in his absence) but it’s also possible that Tom doesn’t want to be around his family because he is always playing a part. The play allows him to play make-believe “honestly”. My experience with a closeted friend taught me that sometimes, if you fear your family cannot accept you as you are, it is easier to avoid them entirely then to live a lie. This is not something that I have personally experienced, but I can understand the inclination. Secrets can tear relationships apart, and in this era, Tom could never tell.

While it served my literary purposes to make Tom homosexual, it is not a decision I made lightly and I tried to write Tom’s story seriously, within the bounds of a comical book. While Jane Austen may have never address homosexuality directly (besides the comment from Mary Crawford about Rears and Vices), it is reasonable to expect that some portion of her characters would be queer, if only because of statistical probability. I believe I have reasonable evidence from cannon to make Tom attracted to men, though it's hardly conclusive.

[awriterinthenight]

"Its a Date"-Jess Mariano

requested: @dearggntlereader

words: 1424

warnings: mentions of an argument (i think that's it

summary: You and Jess were highschool sweethearts who broke up, but now that both of you are in the same town, who knows what will happen.

a/n I gave reader a certain style, since I just felt the whole artist thing kind of gave me an idea as to how she would dress, if you don't like it then just ignore it

Highschool sweethearts always seemed like a doomed relationship to some people. As nice as it was to fall in love young, usually those relationships end up with bad breakups, or even worse marriages. This wasn't always the case, you knew a couple people that married right out of high school and turned out well, but then there was a couple like Lindsey and Dean, which ended horribly.

Your high school sweetheart was Jess Mariano. The two of you had been dating since junior year started, and didn't break up till a couple months after graduation. You ended up breaking up due to the fact that Jess didn't actually graduate, and ended wanting to go to California to find his dad. You tried to be supportive of him, but he never told you when he would return, or if he was repeating senior year, which frustrated you. The two of you ended up in a massive argument, where both of you realized you could no longer be together if you wanted to accomplish your separate goals. You called it quits, and Jess went to California to find his dad, then ended up moving to Philadelphia where he started his publishing house, and wrote his first book. You ended up going to an art school in New York where you became an independent artist, and have been well off since.

Your art has gained a lot of attraction over the past few years. Many people bought your art, had it shown in galleries, and some pieces even won awards. You continued to live in New York, even buying yourself your own studio to paint in.

Never once in the past few years had you heard from Jess or seen him at all, which was probably a good thing. Except sometimes whether or not you made the right decision, was a thought that had been crossing your mind recently. Sometimes it even channeled into your art, but those paintings seemed to always be the best.

Recently you had gotten a call from a publishing house that had art shown in it, alongside other forms of art. Usually you hadn't done anything small or local unless you truly loved the place, but something compelled you to say yes, when the person on the phone asked if you would like to display one of your pieces there. Rarely ever did you donate art unless it was for a good cause, but you gave the piece to the publishing house completely free, which you thought was just because your life had been a bit slow.

The place was having an event to celebrate their growth, which you had been invited to since your art was on display. You agreed to go which was why you were currently getting dressed for this event. This didn't seem formal, but also not super casual. Making it hard to figure out what to wear. But you didn't care and put on a decent enough outfit which was a little black dress, tights, your old leather jacket, and boots. Your style hasn't changed much since you were a teenager (its not a phase mom).

You gave the address to the cab driver when you got into the car. The place was called Truncheon, which you thought was a bit of an odd name. It did make you think of Jess though. It sounded like a name he would pick for something.

When you got out of the car you took a look at the building. It was small, but definitely had its charm. Stepping into the publishing house was like stepping into a new world. Everyone there was unique, some there for the art, the books, or the performances that were going on.

"You must be the artist, Y/N," someone said, making you turn around.

You gave them a small smile, trying to be polite, "Yes, that's me," you said, holding out your hand for him to shake.

"It's very nice to meet you," he told you, shaking your hand before dropping it, "I'm Matthew, the one who contacted you. Me and my friends were so grateful you donated your artwork, it's amazing by the way."

"Well, I'm glad you liked it. All the art here is amazing," I complimented, since I loved the atmosphere of the place, and just its entirety.

"That's amazing, my friends were so excited. You should meet them," he offered, before calling them over, "Hey, Chris, Jess-" he said something else, but you didn't hear it. Surely it couldn't be Jess Jess, probably someone with the same name.

But, you were wrong. It was Jess. You hadn't seen him in years, so you took a moment to get a good look at him. He'd grown a small beard, but still wore his leather jacket.

"Hey," was all you could manage out, as Chris and Matthew gave the two of you a look.

"Hey," he uttered back, not as surprised as you were, which made you suspicious.

A gear started to turn in Matthew's head, "Well, you two seem to know each other, and this is awkward, so we'll let you two catch up," he said, dragging away a protesting Chris.

There was a silence between you two, but you broke it first, "So, you work here now," you tried to make small talk.

He nodded, "Yeah, I actually have a book that I published here two," he told you, his hands in his pockets, something he did when he was nervous.

"I know," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

"You know?" he questioned, a hint of playfulness in his voice, "And here I thought you stopped caring about me years ago."

You had stopped keeping track of where he was after the breakup, but you still kept a tab on him every once in a while. You knew about his book when he published it, you'd heard from an old friend about it, so you made sure to get one when it was first published.

You shrugged slightly, "I mean I didn't totally forget about you. I just, I-," you stammered, "I thought you were still in Stars Hollow," you said, changing the conversation a bit.

"I mean, I was for a little bit, then I came here," he explained, a silence settling over you again.

You both opened your mouths to say something multiple times, but neither of you spoke. After a few minutes of silence Jess finally got the courage to say something.

"You know, I was actually the one who recommended you to Matthew. I saw your art in a magazine not that long ago, I thought you'd like an opportunity to display it here, even though its not one of your fancy galleries," he said, unable to keep himself from going back to his old ways of constantly teasing you.

You smiled, looking at the ground to hide your small blush, "Why didn't you ask me to?" you asked him, "I probably would've said yes in a heartbeat," you confessed.

"I thought you wouldn't want to see or hear from me after all these years. I never went back to Stars Hollow cause I thought you would be there, and I was too scared to face you," he admitted, nervous from what he was saying. Even after all these years, you could still read him like an open book.

"Well, I'm here now and you don't seem that scared," you told him, looking at him through your lashes.

He let out a small chuckle, "I'm shaking with fear actually," he said, making the both of you let out a small laugh, "How long are you in town for?"

"I wasn't leaving till tomorrow morning, but I can stay longer. It's not like I have anywhere to be," you told him.

"Good, then maybe tomorrow I can take you out. Show you around the city," he offered, letting out a shaky breath.

You considered it for a moment before saying, "Maybe, but would this be a just friends thing, or maybe something else," you asked, just making sure.

"I don't know," he said, "What do you want it to be?"

You shrugged, "I mean, a date doesn't sound like the worst thing ever," you admitted.

"Okay," he muttered softly, "It's a date."

Another silence hung around you before he spoke again, "I can give you a tour of the place if you like," he offered, smiling like an idiot.

You nodded, "That sounds fun, lead the way," you said, taking his hand in yours.

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