#I am very bored on this Christmas Eve | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lolitaa-17 · 5 months

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The Worst

Toji x Reader | warnings: creampie, breeding, ermmm idk figure it out.

You wipe off all the snow that was on your coat before entering the cabin. It was Christmas eve and months ago you all (Gojo, Geto, Megumi, Nobara, Yuji, and Toji) decided to spend time together at Gojo's cabin.

"Hi." You smiled at everyone as you open the door, revealing Geto and Gojo attempting to make gingerbread houses. Nobara, Yuji and Megumi making hot chocolate. And finally Toji with of course...another women.

You roll your eyes and take off your coat. Gojo and Geto too focused on the gingerbread houses to even notice you, until Yuji yelled out "She's here!!" which caught the attention of everyone. Yuji pulled you into a big hug. Following Nobara and Megumi, and of course Suguru and Satoru. Toji sitting there watching you with his women wrapped around his arms.

You throw him a little awkward wave before walking into the kitchen with the kids. "He just met her yesterday, and he'll probably leave her tomorrow." Megumi whispered quietly as you got closer. You couldn't help but laugh at his comment.

"What took you so long to get here anyway?" Satoru says wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You could feel Toji burning your back with his gaze. "Work, they've been nonstop recently." You sigh taking the hot chocolate that Nobara passed to you. "I say you quit and become Satoru's trophy wife." she says making a heart sign with her hand at you and Satoru.

"Gross, not Sensei." Megumi says softly slapping Nobara's hand. "Let's not bring dating up actually, because someone looks a little..." Suguru says whispering to you and Satoru. You slightly turn to see Toji scrolling on his phone ignoring the women he brought. "Hey um Juliet..right?" Yuji asked.

She looked so happy that we even looked at her, You felt bad for her. She was young and Toji was manipulative. It was the worst combo. She had her life ahead of her. "Yeah!" she tries to get up but Toji grabs her arm "Sit." and so she does.

"Toji, let her go. She looks bored." You say walking towards them. He looks up at your face. He missed it, those doe eyes, those plump lips, they way your hair touched your face. He gets up not taking his eyes off yours "Go ahead then." He pushed passed you making his way out the front door.

"Thank you! I'm Juliet by the way...I haven't gotten your name yet..." She waited and looked at you for to respond. "Y/n.." you smiled and her eyebrows crashed. "Oh so you're the one Toji always talks about." you sighed.

"Let's go join the others...yeah?" You say changing the topic. She followed you with a small smile plastered on her face. She looked happy just to be here.

Time passed and Toji was still outside. You sigh a little worried. "I'm gonna go check on Toji." before you got up from the couch Juliet stops you. "I'll go with you."

"Juliet wait can you be my parnter for the game that we're playing?" Megumi says trying to stop her from going with you. He looked at her with those same manipulative pleading eyes his dad had. So how could she say no.

You walk towards Toji's Tacoma. It was black...the windows were very tinted but you knew he was in there. You knocked on the window and immediately the window opened. "What the hell do ya want now?" it smelled like cigarettes. "I was just checking in on you." you softly said still intimidated by just his presence. "Well here I am? So bye." You rolled your eyes and turned around walking away from his car.

"Actually y/n.." Your stop and turn around. "Go tell the others that we're gonna go buy booze, Satoru and Suguru have been begging me."

So here you are, sitting in his car while the music is blasting, of course Toji lets you put on your music. He secretly has the same playlist you do and plays it in the car only when your not around.

He stops at a rest area and shifts his gaze towards you before tunring the music down, "I miss you." You nod "No Toji you can't keep doing this." You look out the window trying to stop yourself from tearing up. "Doing exactly what?" He raises his voice.

"You fucking tell me you miss me and you treat me the same every time!" You look at him as the tears finally fell. His gaze soften. He sighs "I've fucking changed baby, I try to find you in everyone I meet." He wipes your tears and traces his thumb over your lips.

"Bringing another women to spite tonight was one way to fuck up already." You grab his hand not letting go. "So it worked?" He smirked. You rolled your eyes pushing his hand "I still fucking love you!"

"Come here." he pats his lap. "No." you say wiping your tears. "Take your coat off and c'mere." He was captivating, his dominance was something you definitely missed.

He grabs your waist gripping it tightly. "You have no idea how long i've been waiting to see you today." You just looked at Toji, not saying one word, until he started kissing your neck. "Is this what you want out of me?" He pulled away giving you the most offended look.

"Is that what you fucking think?" He lets go of your waist. "Toji I didn't mean it like that, it's just every time-"

"Get off me." He demanded.

He drove back to the cabin after grabbing the booze for Satoru and Suguru. The car ride was silent the whole time. Til you finally arrived, "Give this to them and get Juliet for me." You snatched the drink from him and slammed the car door.

Megumi and Yuji shared a room, while Nobara had her own. "Y/n we didn't know that you and Toji were gonna, well break up so you're gonna have to share." Gojo says a bit awkwardly.

"Hmm just sleep with Satoru, His bed is massive." Geto says before taking one big sip of the whiskey. "No. I'll just sleep in the living room, the couches are somewhat comfy."

All the lights were off, the only light was coming from the massive Christmas tree. You felt guilty for saying what you said to Toji, but it was partially true. You were anxious, how late it was getting and he hadn't arrived yet.

Just as if he heard your thoughts, you could see the headlights pulling up to the front of the Cabin. You quickly close your eyes as soon as you heard the front door opening. You could hear the rustling of him taking his coat and shoes off. Until it stopped, now all you heard were his steps getting closer and closer.

"Come on lets go to the room." He whispers as he slowly pats your shoulder. "Toj-" he huffed, "Y/n it wasn't a fucking question, cmon." You got up and followed behind him. The doors opened revealing the cozy room with presents all over the bed. "Toji...did you do all this?" you asked looking up at him as he loomed behind you now.

"Mhm" he takes off his shirt leaving him only in his grey sweatpants. You could sense that he was still mad. He pushed a couple presents and laid down on the bed. "My love, look I'm sorry at the unnecessary comment earlier. I was just mad..." You grab his face and make him look at you. "Open the gifts goddamnit."

You kiss him before sitting next to him on the bed. You wore the shortest booty shorts you could find paired with a grey tanks top. You notice Toji glaring at you, "You're really bugging me." He puts one of the decorative pillows on top of his lap.

You rolled your eyes and started opening the gifts, a bunch of different expensive perfumes, Lingerie and expensive jewelry. You move the pillow and stratal him. "I love all of this, but Toji I just really want you, I want to start over."

You could feel his rock hard dick under you. Just the feeling of him already had you soaking. "Then lets start over." He leans in and pecks your lips. You tired pulling away but his started kissing you more aggressively. The small grunts coming out of his mouth as he feels you slowly grinding on his clothed dick.

"Fuck" you pull away from the messy make out session and started removing your shirt. How Toji sat there admiring your breast. Taking one and massaging it as he sucks the other one. You lean you head back and soft moan. "Lay down." You hear Toji whisper. so you listen.

He slides off your panties, he slides down to meet your wet cunt thats been waiting to see him. "Sit on me." he looks up at you. "Toji, No I don't want to hur-" He scoffs "Look at you and look at me...sit on me."

"Fuck." You moan as his tongue constantly makes contact with the little pearl with his tongue. You grab a handful of his hair as you hear the loud slurping noise. You look down and you see how small you are compared to Toji. It turned you on, you loved how big Toji was. It made you feel comfortable and safe yet so scared.

"T-Toji f..fuck me already." You gasp and he fastened his tempo with his tongue. You couldn't help but squirm closing your legs tighter and tighter but you were scared you were gonna suffocate Toji.

"Fuck Toji m'done, i wan you inside me." So he stops and tosses you on your stomach. "I fucking miss this ass." He smacks your ass causing you to moan. He spreads open your wet pussy lips before sliding his sweats down revealing his lengthy fat veiny dick. You were looking back as he was getting ready to fuck you.

"m'gonna fuck you so hard." He whispers before thrusting hard into you. "Fucmm" You dig your head into the pillow as he thrusted in with no warning, its been a while, getting used to his dick. "I fucking needed you.." Toji threw his head back as he kept thrusting into you. He looked at you, how quiet and muffled your moans were. He slid a pillow under your stomach and grabbed your by the neck causing you to look up.

"T-Toji stahh.." you bit your lip as the pleasure kept going constantly. With every grunt you heard coming out of Toji, the faster he went. Slapping your ass occasionally. "f..fuck how about I fucking making your pregnant." He says as he feels himself getting ready to cum.

"Pleasmm Toji." You bite your lips. "I wan..it" you gasp. "M'yeah? You wan hold m'fucking kids?" His thrust getting harder and deeper, his tip constantly hitting the gushy spot in your pussy . "Mmhmm, yes i wan it." You moan.

"Fuck." he says letting his load spill inside your pussy. Finally puling out and dropping right next to you. "Fuck Toji." You try to catch your breath. "I've missed it, you, your scent. I missed all of it. I love you so fucking much. I don't ever want to let you go." You lazily smile at him "Cute...clean me up."

He laughs and gets up to grab a rag to clean you.

"The Christmas miracle was Toji and Y/n getting back together." Satoru says noticing how touchy Toji had been with you all morning. Nobara rolls her eyes, "Make her a trophy wife, or someone else will." Suguru butts in "I don't think that's gonna be a problem considering they plan on having a-" Toji smacks him on the head. "Shut up."

You embarrassingly walk away from them walking to the Kitchen where Megumi had been making himself a tea. "I'm glad you gave him another chance, the amount of times he would nonstop talk about you was getting annoying, no offense." You laughed, "What are you fucking saying little boy?" Megumi grabbed his mug, "Nothing, I made you a coffee already y/n its on the counter." You grabbed the coffee as Toji wrapped his big arms around your waist.

"He says that about me but he low key misses you too." He chuckles leaning in kissing you passionately. "Mm yeah? Well like father like son." you smile as he gives you that look that you loved, his sly smirk.

#fushiguro toji #jjk smut #jjk toji #jujutsu toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji smut #fushiguro #smut #drabble

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spacesquidlings · 4 months

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Thorns

Description: Connecting with family can be wondrous, but it can also cause heartache and strife. And when she's caught in a fight, he saves her

Pairing: Astarion x Female Tav (Aspen)

Warnings: Threats of physical violence

A/N: Although being with family over the holidays is supposed to be full of love and warmth, it very rarely is. I've been lucky the past number of years that my holidays have usually been fun and joyous, and I've looked forward to the parties and gatherings. As I've gotten older though, things have become more and more difficult, and this year especially has been much harder in a lot of ways (I won't bore you all with the details but it's been difficult to say the least). I've simplified this fic a bit so as not to bore anyone with the complexities of a very large extended family unit, and paired it down to feature mentions of a more condensed family. Please forgive me this indulgence, but writing this brought me some comfort and closure after a difficult situation on Christmas eve. I hope it can give someone else even a little bit of comfort and safety and the knowledge that you are loved, and that you are good as you are. Happy holidays you guys I am sending my love <3

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Fights happened, that’s just the way families were. At least that’s what she’d been told.

She’d been told a lot of things. That she could be terribly angry, that she was always angry, that she often screamed, that she was always horribly loud, that she could be thorny and sharp. And although she never tried to be a creature of wrath and noise, it seemed that such a beast was forever lurking beneath her skin, waiting to unsheath its claws.

So too had she been told that she could be too much. That she needed to dampen her voice as one extinguished a flame, leaving only smoke to show it had been there at all.

And some of it was true, she was certain. In the back of her mind she knew she could be loud, that she could be a bit much. She would lose herself in her excitement, her passions. The flurry of emotions, as raging as a hurricane, would overtake her. Whether it be in joy or excitement or heartache or anger, she would lose herself, and sometimes it took a steadying hand to bring her back.

She did not have a steadying hand that night.

It had been years since she had seen her family, absconding from their home with the intent to make a life for herself in Baldur’s Gate before being stolen by the mind flayers. She had written letters to them since, but she had settled nicely into her life with Astarion, finding joy and contentment like nothing she had felt before. So it had been ages since she had seen them, so focused was she on the moments of excitement and the moments of repose with her lover.

But with the holidays coming up, she’d wanted to see them. She had wanted to see her family again. She was on good terms with nearly all of them, although there was a strange distance that had grown between herself and her father. Yet that surely would not matter, not when she wanted to see everyone, when she wanted to reconnect and laugh and be in their company once more.

Astarion had obliged, musing about how he’d like to meet the people she had grown up with, and perhaps take a peek at old paintings of her as a child, and look for old beloved toys and books to tease her about later.

So they had sent a letter to her mother, and they had packed their belongings, and they had headed out to the village she had grown up in.

It was not a backwater by any means, but when they first arrived she gazed upon the central market, the rows of quaint houses that skirted the village borders, and felt strange. It was all as familiar to her as a recurring dream, and unknown as an uncharted land unmarked on any map.

It had been her home, but it was not her home any longer. She was a piece of a puzzle that no longer fit, this small world shifting around her absence, filling in the gaps as surely as she had filled in the gaps that had been left in her.

She’d spent the day with Astarion, clutching his hand tightly, the ring that allowed him to walk in the daylight glittering like a star plucked from the night sky on his finger. They’d gone through all of her favourite shops, had paused in restaurants to enjoy some of the foods she hadn’t had in ages, before finally arriving at her parents’ home.

Her heart had fluttered like an injured bird, and she considered turning tail and running. But with Astarion’s hand in hers she felt brave, felt safe as she knocked on the door, as she was greeted by the delighted shouts of her mother, of her siblings, of her grandparents.

The reunion was not without its awkwardness, exacerbated by Astarion delighting in stories of when she’d been in a child, and finding old paintings that had gathered dust of her childhood self. He’d even managed to find his way to her old room, the one she had occupied barely a week before she had first met him.

Laughing, he had wiggled beloved stuffed dolls above her head, teasing her as he pretended to play, eliciting annoyed shouts at first, and then laughter as she’d tickled his sides until he’d conceded.

She’d been able to fall into a comfortable routine with her family, and with her lover at her side. The years of adventuring had not diminished her love for them, nor had it made theirs falter. She no longer fit within the village, but she was still welcomed, still accepted.

Their plan had been to stay for a few weeks, touring the village and some of the larger cities nearby, and catching up with family and old friends. Most days Aspen and Astarion would spend their mornings together, Astarion lying on her chest like a weighted blanket, murmuring that he was too comfortable to move even as the sun made its way across the sky. Then they would dress, invite one of her siblings or her mother along with them, and they would head out into the world.

In the evenings they would return, and he would roll up his sleeves and offer to help with the cooking and cleaning her mother often did. It added to the strange delightfulness of everything, Astarion offering to do something he had often whined about at length when their relationship was still new as spring blooms.

It felt almost blissful, a strange sort of dream she found herself walking in. A scrap of domesticity, a glimpse into what life with him would be like if they ever settled down. If they ever decided to put down roots.

But as much as those days warmed Aspen’s heart, they could not last. It was all too good to be true, the softest, most magical part of the dream right before she awoke. The calm before the rage of a storm.

She loved her family, so entirely she did not always have the words to explain it. But as much as she loved them, they frustrated her beyond belief, beyond words or understanding. The little words that cut like a knife into her heart, picking at her life, at her interests and hobbies, at her choices.

The only difference now was that she no longer wandered her family’s home and the village roads with open wounds, dripping blood into the snow-covered cobblestones. When they wounded her with sharpened words, Astarion was there to stitch her back together, to hold her until the tightness in her chest began to loosen, knots coming undone.

There was never any true malice behind their words and actions, but that did not mean that it hurt her any less.

She loved them, but they frustrated her. The more time she spent with them the more things weighed her down, the more things chipped away at her confidence, at the slivers of courage she had found travelling Faerûn, at her own heart. She could feel parts of herself fading away, withering like flowers in a storm, like dying leaves falling from ashen branches.

Aspen was reminded of how difficult family could be, and none were more difficult than the man who called himself her father.

Just as surely as she’d been told she could be too much, she’d been told she needed to be careful around this man. To dance delicately around things that triggered his rage, to tiptoe through a field of eggshells to ensure nothing cracked.

But Aspen was not a rogue, not like her beloved, able to slink silently through shadows, able to dance through fields of fire, able to whisper honeyed words that calmed most people before aggravation could explode.

How could she, when there was a monster beneath her skin? And though she’d thought it finally tamed, it returned in a fury easily, far too easily for her liking.

It was a night when Astarion was not with her, when they were a hairsbreadth from the holidays and she was helping to cook and bake. Grating cheese and chopping veggies, measuring out chocolate and stirring batter.

Astarion had slipped out earlier in search of something he would not divulge. He would only grin in mischief, tap her nose playfully, and promise he wouldn’t be out too late.

And without him nearby, she’d had nothing but her songs and stories to while away her time with. So she had volunteered to help cook and bake with her mother, taking part in what had been a little tradition between the two of them when she’d still lived with her family.

Things had gone well enough, and they’d successfully prepared many treats for the holidays and the revelry everyone would be taking part in.

It had come as a surprise when her father had entered, forcing his way into their comfortable space. He’d started doing something else entirely, plates and bowls clashing in a discordant clattering that had her ears ringing.

Although her ire had been stoked initially, she’d had no reason to pay it any heed. What he was doing was no crime, and her mother was forever asking her to strengthen the bonds between the two of them, to close the strange chasm separating them that neither was ever able to fully cross.

And it had been fine, at first. Casual conversation shared between the three of them, her younger siblings having retired to bed already, and Astarion still lost to the night and whatever wicked surprise he was searching for.

But then it had been not fine, and too late did Aspen realize the claws of the monster in her blood had come out.

Her voice raised, her heart thundering in her chest, a plea to be listened to, to be seen and understood as the adult she had become. That she was not a fool, that the aches in her heart for things he refused to believe were valid, were just, if only he would listen.

They’d had many shouting matches in the past, leaving open wounds that had pushed them further apart the older she grew. So when his voice rose she’d thought perhaps it would be the same as the others, words thrown like rocks back and forth until it fizzled out.

But she’d said that he’d been talking down to her, that he’d been talking to her like she were clueless, a child.

And that apparently, was too far.

The escalation was abrupt. Sudden movement, the man squaring his shoulders to seem larger as spit had flown from his mouth as his voice had risen further. His words had turned cruel, derogatory. How stupid she was, how childish, how she was no adult and spoke like a fool, and words so much crueler that had made her eyes burn.

He paced, shouting loud enough to rattle the ceiling. And she had raised her voice in kind, shrieking now, shrill and enraged at him, at herself for being hurt, for thinking they could mend the rift between them.

And then the threat, a threat heavy with certainty. That he would hit her for her impertinence if she did not stop.

Hit her as a parent hit a child, beat her as a parent who did not know how to navigate their emotions beat a child that misbehaved.

Red had filled her vision, her heart as good as stopped for she could no longer feel it. Her blood had boiled and she had flung her anger back at him, a furious reaction to such a threat.

Her mother had promised he would never hurt her, but her mother seemed oblivious to the times he had, when she’d been little. No more than a parent punishing a child, keeping a troublemaker in line. But she remembered the sharp pain, she remembered the stark cold of the tub, she remembered the acrid taste of soap and the way she had heaved as she’d been forced forward.

Not many times, but enough to burn themselves in her memory, enough that she shrunk whenever a man’s voice was raised. Enough that she shook despite her best efforts when senseless rage was directed at her.

Such a threat was not something she would abide. Not now, not anymore. She was no defenseless child, she had lived, she would not be threatened in a place she was meant to be safe.

She said as much, thinking she was safe.

But she was not. He moved swiftly, looming over her like a monster, so close his forehead pressed against hers. Spit flew into her face, her ears rang, as he screamed and screamed, deep rage like that of the flames of Avernus, directed at her, so close she could smell nothing but the rankness of his breath.

She screamed in return, demanding he move, to get away. But he did not, still pouring his fury against her.

In the back of her mind fear sprung forth, slick and oily as disease. Her body trembled, not that she noticed, and she knew, deep within herself, that he was nearing his limit. That he would hurt her if she did not keep pushing.

But how could she not? Until he used those damned ears to listen, to acknowledge she was not some thing he could use as he pleased.

She tensed in anticipation, knowing the blow would come sooner rather than later.

But what she did not expect was the new shout that erupted behind her father, a figure blocked from her view from the hulking mass of the man who had pressed his face into hers and would not move.

Astarion dug his fingers into the collar of the man’s shirt, yanking him back.

He stumbled, whirling on Astarion, hand raised.

And Astarion bared his teeth, a knife pointed at the man’s throat.

“Make one move and I slit your throat.”

A snort, over-confident and haughty. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Another flash of Astarion’s fangs, his eyes seeming to brighten to a bloody crimson. “I would hate to waste warm blood, but in this case I could make an exception.”

Wild eyes turned to her, fists clenching as hands fell to his sides. “What kind of monster have you brought into our home?”

“Eyes on me,” Astarion cooed, deadly soft. “Lower those hands and go somewhere to cool off and I won’t spill any blood.”

The man swore, shooting Aspen one more murderous look before stalking away, muscles tensed like he was still looking to fight.

Astarion sheathed his knife, a ferocious predator for only a moment longer before he turned to her. His eyes softened then, his lips murmuring soft words as he moved towards her, catching her shaking body before she could fall over.

“You’re alright, darling,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her brow. “You’re safe. You’re safe.”

Tears burned, but they did not fall. She was shivering like a dying tree in a windstorm, and she clutched at him, words choked by the sob that was lodged in her throat.

“Let’s find somewhere for you to sit down, shall we?” He guided her to the kitchen table, settled her into one of the chairs.

In the aftermath, as the fury leached from her skin, she felt cold. Cold as a winter’s night, cold as the darkest moments of a snow-storm, cold as the frozen lake at the border of the village, drowning in the darkened waters.

It was only then that her mother stepped forward, having seemed to have disappeared during the fight. She’d nearly forgotten she’d been there, helping her to bake before everything had unravelled.

“You know you’re both just so similar,” her mother said, letting out a breathy laugh. There was no humour in the sound, and her expression was pinched.

Astarion turned to peer at her mother over his shoulder, his expression inscrutable. “Excuse me?”

She shrugged, wringing her hands. “They provoke each other so much. And you know you did start it, Aspen. You know that’s a trigger for him.”

Astarion leaned back as though he’d been slapped. He blinked, not seeming to understand what he’d just heard. “What do you mean?”

Her mother didn’t hear the edge to his tone, but Aspen did, just as she saw the twitch of his brow, the slight downturn of his lips.

“She should have just agreed to disagree, that’s all.” Another shrug. “What he did was unacceptable, and he shouldn’t have acted like that. But you know you can be just like that, too.”

At her mother’s words Aspen shuddered, for an entirely new reason this time.

She knew of the creature beneath her skin, knew she had to keep it in check, but never had she felt like such a monster as she did now. Her mother softly berating her for provoking the man supposed to be her father.

She could feel it in her veins, roiling like the rage of a storming sea. The monster in her blood, the one that used her skin.

Had she minded her tongue this would not have happened, had she minded her tongue they would still be joyfully cooking, and Astarion would not have had to reveal his vampirism to her parents.

As her mother came forward to comfort her as well tears began to spill, streaking down her cheeks in rivers of flame.

She hardly noticed through the silver blur the room around her drowned in from her tears, the way Astarion’s expression tightened. She didn’t even notice the way his hands tightened on her shoulders, giving her mother almost no room to kneel beside her.

She wanted to cry to her mother, to be comforted, to be told it was not her fault.

But it was her fault, wasn’t it? A horrible monster ruining the holidays, ruining their family gathering on the eve of their celebrations. Ruining things just as she always did, tearing apart the delicate happiness that had been in the air.

“Absolutely not.”

The sharpness in Astarion’s tone made Aspen look up, searching for his eyes in the haze of tears. She made to wipe her eyes, but he gently pushed her hands away, the pads of his thumbs soft as they gently brushed away her tears.

She sniffed, her throat raw as she spoke. “What are you talking about?”

“I will not stand for such slander,” he said, gentle, but firm. “I will not allow for you to be slandered after such a threat.”

Her mother shot Astarion an incredulous look. “That’s hardly fair, and I don’t appreciate you sticking your nose in our business. He’s her father, he would never hurt her.”

“Wouldn’t he?” Astarion sounded eerily calm, his brow arching in bemusement. “Because that looked quite aggressive. That looked like someone on the verge of hitting someone else.”

Her mother opened her mouth to retort, but Astarion stood suddenly, cutting her off.

“No, this is not acceptable.” He offered Aspen his hand, his expression softening for half a breath until he returned his gaze to her mother. “From what I saw he nearly hurt her. He threatened to hurt her. And while my beloved can handle much, being threatened by her own father is not something she should never tolerate.”

His gaze was sharp as he gave her mother a once over. “Nor should she tolerate such nonsense from her mother.”

“You weren’t here at the beginning of the argument, you didn’t hear-”

“No, you’re right.” He cut her off, no humour in his smirk. “But I know her well, so I can guess well enough what happened. And raising her voice and saying a thoughtless comment does not deserve such a response.” Then, quieter. “Nothing does.”

Wordlessly, Aspen took his hand. He drew her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her waist. “We’re leaving, darling.”

Her legs shook, and she feared her knees would give out on her soon. “Where?”

“We’ll find an inn for the night,” he said, not sparing her mother a second glance. “Then we’ll head back to Baldur’s Gate at first light.”

Her mother got to her feet, regret in her eyes. “But the holidays start tomorrow, and we planned-”

Astarion’s response was a snarl. “You stood by and did nothing. You didn’t want to choose a side, but you did all the same.”

They packed quickly, Aspen in such a daze that Astarion packed her things for her, murmuring softly that she was okay, that she was safe, that he would make sure she was always safe.

It wasn’t until they had headed into the night, until they’d checked into the first inn they found, until Astarion guided her to the rickety bed and she fell back, that she truly began to sob.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, taking her into his arms. He tucked her head against his shoulder, not making a comment as she stained the fine fabric with snot and tears. “You’re safe.”

“I’m sorry!” She cried, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain, hands finding his shirt, balling the fabric up in her fists. “I’m sorry! I ruin everything!”

“Nonsense,” he breathed, smoothing her hair back from her face. “You don’t ruin anything.”

“Yes I do!” Her voice was a shrill shriek, and she nearly doubled over from the force of the sudden sobs that ripped from her throat. “I ruin everything. I ruin every friendship, I ruin my family’s happiness, one day I’ll ruin this.”

She pressed her face against his shoulder, her sobs muffled, if only barely. “I’m a monster. I’m a horrid beast, always so angry and I can’t even stop it. I can’t stop myself!”

“Aspen.” The steadiness of his voice gave her pause. He kept his voice soft, but there was a firmness to it, like iron, that quieted her cries.

“Aspen, darling, look at me.”

She sniffed, shaking her head. “I look horrible.”

A soft chuckle, his fingers running through her hair. “I don’t think that’s even possible, my love. Even drenched in gore you are beautiful. A few tears and snot will hardly stifle your beauty.”

She pulled away then, fixing a glower to her face. “Are you sure about that?”

He smiled, cupping her cheeks with such gentleness that a soft gasp escaped her lips. Did she deserve tenderness? Did she deserve even a scrap of his affection when she was a beast? When she would hurt him as surely as she hurt her father, her family?

“You are radiant,” he said, no sign of teasing in his eyes. “Beautiful as always.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. The screaming, the rage, being whisked away so late at night. “Astarion, you just watched me scream my lungs out at my father and then sob so hard I’m pretty sure I bruised my ribs.”

He tapped her cheek, his brow arching. “Don’t forget staining my shirt, too. This was silk, you know.”

“Oh Astarion, I’m so sorry.” The tears began all over again, spilling like she might drown in her misery. “I’ve ruined everything.”

“Darling, darling,” he clicked his tongue softly, brushing her tears away as he stroked her cheeks. “You have not ruined anything, and you are no monster.”

“But I-”

“Hush.” He could have spoken sharply, but his tone was whisper soft. His brows drew together, his lips tilting down. “You are not to blame.”

How did she explain to him? How did she explain the monster in her body, the beast beneath her skin?

“You don’t understand.” Her voice wobbled, thick and rough from tears and screaming and the sobs still caught in her throat.

He was being so soft, so gentle in the face of the catastrophe made flesh that she was. “Then help me to understand, my love.”

Her bottom lip quivered and she drew in deep breaths, her nose clogged with snot. “I ruin everything, I make a mess of everything. I push him too far, trigger him and make him angry. I don’t even try to, I don’t look for a fight but everyone tells me I do. I’m told I’m too loud, I’m too angry, and I don’t even know I am until it’s too late. I’ve ruined my most precious relationships, I ruined the holiday by making my father mad.”

Astarion listened quietly, brushing away her tears as they fell, until they had all spilled, and there was nothing but dried salt on her cheeks.

When she was done pouring out her fears, her terror of what she could be, he nodded, silent still. She wished he would speak, was desperate for him to say something.

Maybe he would push her away, tell her that he had made a mistake, that she was not who he’d thought she was. Maybe he would tell her that she truly was a beast just as she thought.

But what he did surprised her more.

He drew her face close, brought his lips to the corner of hers.

“You are no monster,” he said, soft as a lullaby. “You can be loud, and you can be a bit overzealous.”

At that he smirked, tapping her cheek. “But a monster you are not. If you’re truly scared, then when we return home we can find someone to help, so that what you feel is truly tamed.”

She sniffed, pulling at his shirt. “But I ruin so many things! What happens when I ruin us?”

He rolled his eyes, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. “My love, you have not ruined anything. You’ve told me of those friendships, and it sounds like those people were rotten from the start.”

“But what about-”

He brought a finger to her lips, silencing her.

“My love,” he murmured, exasperation in his sigh. “I’ve held my tongue far longer than I’ve cared to tonight. Let me speak.”

She nodded, wilting, and he withdrew his hand.

“You did not ruin the holidays for your family either,” he continued, cupping her face again. “Your father had no business reacting that way, no matter what. As much as I delight in a little violence, there is nothing that anyone could have said that would deserve such a response.”

She sniffled again, wiping at her nose as she felt snot dribble out. She looked disgusting, she was sure, and yet Astarion had insisted she was beautiful. How strange he could be.

“If anything was ruined, it was because of him,” he said, kissing her cheek again. “He should learn to control himself, and he was very lucky that I have so much self control.”

At that Aspen couldn’t help giggling, memories of all the times Astarion could not help himself brimming in her mind. But she held her tongue, not wanting to cut him off, not when he was being sweet as spun sugar.

“And you will not ruin us,” he said at last, firm, unwavering. “I want you, I want every part of you. Even your thorns.”

“Thorns?” She furrowed her brow. “Am I a flower to you?”

He grinned, twirling her hair around his finger. “The most beautiful and rarest of all flowers. But I don’t mind the thorns.” His smile grew, fangs catching the light as they came into view. “I’d let you prick me if it meant getting to stay with you.”

“I would never prick you,” she cried, horrified at the idea of hurting him. “I would never ever hurt you. At least not intentionally.”

His smile softened, and he brought his lips to her chest, above where her heart thrummed, finally beating a steady rhythm once more. “See? You have a sweet heart, you are no monster.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he interrupted. “I have met monsters, my love, and you are not one.”

He sighed, releasing the tendril of hair he’d been toying with. “And I plan to stay at your side for a long, long time. So long as you’ll have me.”

Her heart, a poor fractured thing, ached from his words. She felt like she were splintered glass, and she would shatter at any moment now. The only thing holding her together was Astarion’s hands, keeping her in the moment.

“I want you to stay with me,” she said, her voice soft as breath. “I want you to always stay with me.”

“Then I shall.”

Astarion’s arms slid around her waist, drawing her close. Aspen could think of nothing else to say, so instead she curled against his chest, feeling like she might fall apart at any moment now.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, murmuring softly into her hair. “You’re safe. I will keep you safe, my love.”

Although her trembling had stopped, it still took her a long while to truly settle. Her mind could not seem to rest, and it took Astarion singing her favourite songs off-key and reading from one of the books she’d packed for their trip for her mind to finally ease.

He was patient with her as she clung to him, murmuring soft praises, whispering that she was good, that he loved her. He sang and read to her, he stroked her hair, rubbed gentle circles into her back.

A stray sob would slip from between her lips every few moments, and she would absently wipe her nose on the back of her sleeve before nestling closer again. Astarion would press another kiss to her brow, her temple, his arms tightening around her, with every sob that escaped.

And slowly, so painfully slowly it might have taken her a century, she finally began to feel… She wasn’t sure entirely, but it was safer, comforted.

Not entirely better, but it was a start.

“I feel tired,” she murmured against his chest, her tears finally dried up, the last of her sobs lost to the night.

The shadows had grown so long, deepening until there was no light keeping them at bay but for the candles they had lit in their room.

“Why don’t we get you into a bath,” he suggested, tipping her head back until their eyes met. “You always like that.”

“I do…” She trailed off, even the miniscule effort needed to summon words to her lips exhausting her. “But it’s so late, and I feel so tired.”

“Leave it to me,” he murmured, smoothing back her hair.

Things were a blur after that, fatigue rushing through her all at once. Astarion carrying her to the bath, gently settling her into the steaming water like she were a delicate, precious thing. His fingers running through her hair, massaging soap and scented oils into her skin. His lips over her skin, scattering kisses in the wake of his hands as he rinsed the suds from her body.

When he was done he stepped free from the water first so he could help her out, holding her hands as she climbed over the high lip of the tub. He wrapped her in a soft towel, half-carrying her back into their room to help her dress and comb her hair.

Astarion’s lithe fingers twisted her hair into twin braids that fell down her back, much longer than she usually kept it. She made a comment to him that she would need to get it cut when they returned, and he pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, promising he would make an appointment for her with their favourite hairdresser.

“And then perhaps we can spend the rest of the day out,” he suggested as he helped her into bed, going so far to fluff the pillows, spoiling her like she were a princess in a fairytale.

“We can pick out some new fabrics, perhaps commission some new clothes,” he continued, brow quirked as he grinned. “You can never have too many new gowns, especially now that we’ve started getting invited to parties. And-” He let the final word hang in the air, quivering like a music note held at the climax of a song.

“And?”

“And I love seeing you in pretty things.”

She held out her arms, wanting him to hold her even now. He’d had his hands on her for hours now, her fingers wrinkled from how long they’d spent in the bath. But it was not enough, and she wanted to be held still.

Astarion obliged, lying beside her and drawing her into his arms. She tucked her head beneath his chin, breathing in the smell of bergamot and rosemary, and the faint smell of her own favourite perfumes and soaps, lavender and rose and the touch of citrus.

“Could we go to the bookstore, too?” She asked, yawning as he trailed his fingers down the back of her neck.

“We can go wherever you would like,” he promised. “But first you must sleep, my love. We’ll make the trek back home tomorrow when you wake.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice, and she quickly fell into a dreamless sleep, safe in his arms.

The morning came far too soon, but Astarion let her sleep late, until the sunlight was a golden glow that seeped through the curtains of their room and breakfast had long since passed.

They didn’t take the time to bid anyone a proper farewell, instead heading for the winding road that would lead them home.

Aspen didn’t anticipate spending her favourite holiday travelling on the road, but she found she did not mind. Even when silence blanketed the both of them, she was comforted in his presence. Astarion could be melodramatic, petulant, and overly confident. But he also showed her gentleness, kindness, an affection that warmed her like the gentle flicker of candle flames.

He took care of her as surely as she took care of him, and as eagerly as she had accepted him for all his virtues and flaws, so he had with her. Perhaps more so, because she’d kept them quiet for as long as she could, and she was certain anyone else would have left her in the cold for such deception.

The winds picked up as they travelled, reaching frozen fingers into her hair, tearing at her cloak and skirts. She tugged her hood over her head, although it did little as the wind snatched her hood back, tearing it from her head.

Astarion snickered, sliding a hand to her cheek. “I have to admit I am glad that your face is not hidden by your hood.”

“Astarion, I’m cold,” she whined, not caring how her voice pitched high, joining the keening of the freezing winds.

A roll of his eyes, followed by a delicate kiss to her cheek. “Here, I have an idea of what can help.”

He draped the side of his cloak over her, his arm slipping around her waist.

“Won’t this make walking hard?” She asked, turning to him. He was close now, his breath ghosting against her cheek.

“I don’t mind,” he said, his voice a warm tenor that caressed her skin like a kiss. “I’ll take any excuse to be closer to you, darling.”

She sighed, but it wasn’t sad, or even bittersweet. It felt the precursor to a laugh, that promised delight would follow in its wake. “You’re so sweet, did you know that?”

“I did,” he said, doing a poor job of trying not to preen. “But it sounds best when it comes from your lips.”

Now she did laugh, and there really was a little happiness in it, soft as the laughter was, freshly fallen snow that filled the world with glitter. “I’ll have to say it more, then.”

“I’ll hold you to that, my love.”

Walking as they did, Astarion’s cloak wrapped around her, slowed them down considerably, but they still made good time, and as the sun sank beneath the horizon, setting the slate-grey of the sky ablaze in fiery red and burning oranges, they arrived back in Baldur’s Gate.

The feeling she felt as they hurried through the streets, fatigue heavy in their bones, was something entirely different from when they’d arrived in her childhood home.

There she had felt like a piece that no longer fit, accepted but not entirely right. She had ignored it, because that had been where she’d grown up. That had been her home, it was where her family lived still.

But stumbling through the streets, thinking of the warmth of her own home, the heat of a bath, the crackle of a fire stoked high, and all the snacks in the cupboards of their kitchen, she felt something click into place.

The bustle of this city, that bakery she loved to visit, the darkened storefront of their favourite tailor, the merry lights and open doors of the bookstore that sold warm drinks in the winter months. All the parts of the city she hadn’t yet seen, so occupied were they both with travelling, adventuring to different lands.

This felt right. Being here felt right. She didn’t feel like a misplaced puzzle piece, a lost toy that did not match with the rest of the set. She didn’t feel like a puzzle piece at all, something that had to match everything that surrounded it.

She felt whole, she felt like she belonged, felt like she was home.

The wind had not let up since earlier that day, heavy storm-clouds chasing in their wake. As they walked up the steps to their home, windows dark and curtains drawn, waiting for them to bring life back into the empty building, she felt something cold touch her cheek.

She looked up, beamed at the flurry of white swirling through the air, caught up in the ice of the wind.

“Astarion, look,” she murmured, pointing skyward. “It’s snowing.”

He paused, barely a foot from their door, to gaze up at the sky, a soft smile beginning to stretch across his face. “So it is.”

He gave her hand a tug, attention already sliding from the snow and back to the promise of warmth and comfort only a foot away. But Aspen found herself frozen in place, staring up at the snowflakes cascading to the ground. Like the sky itself had opened up in welcome of her returning, of her finding somewhere she was safe.

As Astarion tugged her harder she obliged, following him into the house, the door closing with a soft click behind them. It blocked the snow from sight, but still she could see it in her mind’s eye, swirling in an ivory ballet overhead, covering the world in a pallid pearlescence, wiping away the stain that had grown from the day behind them.

She shivered, snapping back to the present as Astarion’s cool fingers glided over her cheeks, his voice teasing as he commented on how flushed she looked.

They helped each other with their cloaks, tossed their packs to the side to be emptied once they were properly warmed. All the while Aspen’s eyes flitted over their home, the familiar shapes of the furniture, the familiar smell of the cleaners and soaps and candles they preferred, the familiar twists and turns of the halls and stairways.

Astarion’s arms slipped around her waist, his chin perching on her shoulder. “What are you thinking of, darling? You’ve hardly said more than a few words.”

She leaned into his embrace, covering her hands with his. “I’m just thinking that something felt strange when we’d gone to visit my family. And that something feels right now that we’re back.”

He peeled away from her, giving her an amused smile. “Of course something feels right, my love. We’re home.”

Home.

She’d known she was coming home as she’d stepped into the city once more, the word seemed to hold a different weight now.

Home, where she had chosen to lay down her heart, where she had chosen to share space with the person most precious to her. Where she was safe.

She smiled, turning around to draw him into an embrace, pressing her face into his shoulder, breathing in the smell of pine and cold winds, and the smell of his perfumes that he so loved.

“You’re right,” she said, her words partially muffled as she nestled closer. “It feels better because I’m home.”

Astarion snorted, but she could imagine the tender smile curling over his lips like a crescent moon shining silver in the sky. He ran a hand over her hair, fingers toying with the soft baby curls at the nape of her neck. “You’re safe here. You’re safe with me, my love. I swear it.”

“I know.” Tears pricked at her eyes as she held him tighter.

“I will never hurt you, I will never raise a hand to you, or even threaten to do so.”

She clung to him, as surely as his perfumes clung to his skin, even a hint of their smell giving her comfort. “I know, Astarion. I’m not afraid of you.”

“I only want you to know,” he murmured, lowering his head until it rested against hers. “I want you to know that you’re safe. I’ll make sure you’re always safe.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, a futile attempt to stop the flow of the tears that slipped from the corners of her eyes. “Astarion, you’re making me cry.”

He clicked his tongue, stroking the back of her neck. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, my dear.”

“Too late.”

A sigh, a kiss to the top of her head. “Then allow me to make it up to you, darling.”

She sank further into his embrace, listening to the slowed beat of his heart. Her love, her shining star.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

A moment of silence, the slow rhythm, of his heart seeming to stammer for a moment, beat a little faster. “And I love you.”

Aspen would have been content to stay there for the rest of the night, wrapped in his arms. But Astarion clearly had other plans, and after a few moments he pulled away, tapping her cheek playfully when she pouted.

“Don’t look at me like that, darling. I want to clean up and change into something warmer.” He sighed, taking her hands and running his thumbs over the backs of them. “And I want you to change into something warmer too, before you turn entirely to ice.”

“If I turned to ice would you find a way to rescue me?” She gave him a sly smile, a glimmer of mischief in her heart.

“Without a doubt,” he said, eyes bright with devilry. “Although I might have to tell you that I told you so, since if you turned to ice it would be because you ignored my request to warm up.”

“Well then I’ll make sure to heed your advice,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to upset you.”

He patted her hand. “An excellent choice, my love.”

She squeezed his hand, unwilling yet to let go. “Would you help me? I still feel so tired, and I would like to stay close, if you’ll allow me.”

Sorrow flashed in his eyes, the mischief in his smile softening. “Of course, my love. You need only ask.”

“And then we can mull that wine we bought before we left.”

He chuckled, tugging her from the entry, deeper into the heart of their home. “We can. But you’ll have to keep your wits about you, my darling, because I still have that surprise I had prepared for you before that little scuffle.”

She frowned, only now remembering that he’d vanished in search of something he would not tell her about just before the fight had begun. “What is it?”

He shot her a roguish grin. “You’ll just have to wait and see, darling.”

He was teasing her, and while normally she would at least pretend to get upset, in this moment all she could do was smile and laugh. There was no tension in the air, no fear of shattering eggshells beneath her feet.

Astarion accepted her, all of her, and he would not rage against her for saying the wrong thing, for being too loud. He loved her as she was, thorns and all.

They spent the evening together, and she fell asleep tangled in his arms, warm and safe, not feeling quite as hollow as she had the night before.

Aspen had hoped she would bounce back after their return to Baldur’s Gate, but of course things were not perfect, and little more than a week later, a letter arrived addressed to her, scrawled in her mother’s neat hand.

‘You should apologize. I believe you both should apologize, you both-’

She did not get a chance to finish reading before Astarion plucked it from her hand, tossed it into the fire.

A voice in the back of her head told she should probably be annoyed, angry even, that he took the first piece of correspondence she’d received from her family since and fed it to the flames. But there was no rage left inside of her, and even if there was, it would not spark, would not catch on the kindling forever in her heart, waiting to turn to a blaze.

She was thankful to him, for not forcing her to read such a letter. That blamed her as equally as the man who had threatened her. Who teetered on the edge of inflicting violence on her for the sin of disobedience.

“That’s utter rubbish,” he muttered, drawing her into his arms. And for that she was so painfully grateful that she burst into tears all over again, another bout in endless weeks of tears.

“It’s alright, darling.” He had said the words so many times over the past few days, comforting her in the morning when she awoke, trembling from dreams of screaming, from the fractures in her heart, the knowledge that there was no real going back, no crossing the distance between her and that man.

“You are not to blame,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “Your heart is good, darling, and it is not your job to please other people so they do not threaten you. Not even your own family.”

Aspen nodded silently, burying her face against his neck.

They could not hurt her here, they could not even slice her with their callous words. Here in her home, with her lover, she was safe.

“You’re sure?” She asked, sniffling. “You’re sure that I will not ruin us?”

He chuckled, warm and soft, nearly a sigh. “Do roses ruin a garden? Does a hawthorn tree ruin a forest?”

She peeked up from her hiding place, wrinkling her nose. “Pardon?”

“Roses have thorns, do they not?”

She nodded slowly. “They do.”

“But they’re everywhere, are they not? In gardens, in songs and poems, in bouquets given to lovers.” He tipped his head to the side, searching her face as he spoke.

Again she nodded, still unsure of what he was talking about. “I know that. They’re some of the most popular flowers.”

“Even though they have thorns?”

“I… Guess?” He was teasing her now, she was sure of it.

“And did you know,” he continued, toying with her hair. “That hawthorns, with their red fruits used in wines and jellies, and the pretty flowers that bloom on their branches, have thorns too?”

She shook her head, completely lost now. “I didn’t.”

He let go of her hair, settling his hands on her waist. “Well they do. And still they are not seen as something ruinous, but something people adore.”

When she didn’t respond, Astarion sighed, making a show of rolling his eyes. “My darling, you will not ruin us. I love you, I adore you. And I would choose you over all of the thornless, soft-hearted fools in the world.”

“I love you too,” she said, feeling small. “I love you, and I want you to stay with me.”

“And so I shall, darling,” he murmured, lowering his head, nuzzling his nose against hers. “I love you, thorns and all. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears burned at her eyes, a stray few slipping down her cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away, smiling softly.

“You ought to become a poet,” she said, peeking up at him. “Especially after saying such pretty things.”

He snorted, pulling away to wave his hand languidly through the air. “What can I say? You bring out the romantic in me.”

“Thank you, my love,” she spoke earnestly, wanting him to know she was not joking around, that she meant it with her whole heart. “Thank you, for how kind you are to me.”

Astarion froze, the softest touch of pink blooming in his cheeks. What little blood stayed in his veins was rushing to his face, warming him, if only slightly.

“Yes, well…” He trailed off, stammering. “You make it so terribly easy. I hate the idea of your sweet heart being in pain.”

She smirked, teasing him now. “You know you’re pretty sweet, yourself.”

“Alright.” With a roll of his eyes he turned away. “Were we not planning to go out before we got that letter? We should hurry if we want to stop at the bookstore before heading to the performance.”

“Oh yes,” Aspen beamed, hurrying to his side, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek before going in search of her cloak. “Right as always, my love. We must make haste.”

Laughter chased after her as she found where she’d last discarded her cloak, a deep deep the colour of a sunset, a perfect contrast to the powder pink of her gown and the coral-coloured ribbons that laced up the front of her bodice. She tossed it over her shoulders, clicking the clasps into place before heading to the entry, where Astarion waited for her, grinning brighter when he saw her.

“Beautiful as always,” he cooed, straightening the clasps of her cloak, disentangling the corners of her ribbons so the bows laid flat.

She beamed, pushing the letter from her mind, pushing the whole terrible event from her mind. What lurked in her skin was no monster, not a beast that destroyed everything that was dear. It was only her thorns, a part of her as surely as the blood in her veins.

Astarion had promised to help her soften them, so they did not draw blood when someone got too close. But there would likely always be a few that were a little sharp, despite her best efforts.

But he would love her anyways, acknowledging that they were a part of her, and he loved all of her, even the sharpest parts.

That knowledge settled in her heart, warmth kindling in her chest. Not the violent fire of rage, but the gentle warmth of love, of contentment, the kind of warmth that kept her safe.

He offered her his arm, and she took it, heading out into the snow-flecked world beyond their door. Into the city that she was not a missing puzzle piece in, with someone who loved her as she was, who was her home. And like the sun to a blooming flower, to a tree with flowers and fruits blossoming along its thorny branches, their love kept her warm the entire day.

#astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion x female tav #honey the sweeter the sun #hurt/comfort

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illfoandillfie · 4 months

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Blurb Advent 2023: Day 24

This idea came to me after seeing about a hundred reels on insta about guys in grey sweatpants lmao, so i wrote it.

Warnings: minimal editing ofc, making out, mostly pretty cute but quite a lot of dick talk

Ben had stuck the heating on but it was still getting warmed up, a slight chill through the house. The two of you were rugged up on the couch with some mulled wine Ben had decided to make, a gingerbread scented candle burning in the kitchen making the whole place smell festive, and a Christmas variety show playing in the background. The tree was lit up, perhaps unnecessarily considering it wasn’t yet night but the sky outside was grey, threatening to snow. Almost a cliched holiday scene. There was a pile of presents underneath, opne you’d have to load into the car in the morning since they were mostly for parents and siblings, uncles and aunts. Tomorrow would be chaotic since you were intending to visit both his and your families – lunch with one dinner with another – but that wasn’t new. Since your very first holiday with Ben, Christmas had been like that. It only took a couple of years for the two of you to declare Christmas Eve your day. Just the two of you, getting into the holiday spirit and probably making out a little.

Tradition dictated that you each got to open one present on Christmas Eve. Usually, the silliest thing you’d got each other. You’d save the bigger, more impressive stuff for opening with everyone else, but there was always something smaller, something goofier that you could exchange the day before. Ben sorted through the pile under the tree until he pulled out a smallish square box, wrapped up in paper with candy canes printed on it. “Merry Christmas Eve, babe,” he said softly, handing it to you with a small kiss. You tore into it excitedly, revealing the box which claimed to contain a galaxy projector, “Oh my god Ben! This is so cool!” He gave you a pleased little grin, “I thought you’d like it.” You fussed about getting it out of the box and plugging it in as Ben set to opening the package you’d given him. “Oh score, babe! I needed new trackies” Ben said, holding up the grey sweatpants you’d bought him. You giggled, “no problem honey.” “Am I old? I just got ridiculously excited about what I definitely would have considered a boring present as a kid. Does that make me old?” “Aww honey, no. They’re very hip and cool. All the hot young things are buying them for their guys. The internet tells me so.” “What are you on about?” “You haven’t seen those insta reels? The memes about how hot guys in grey trackies are?” “Ummm no. Oh god maybe I really am old.” You snorted, “If you put them on I can explain what the memes are. But no undies okay?” “And that will make me young? Sounds crazy but okay, they look really fucking comfy.”

In the time it took for Ben to go and change you managed to get the galaxy projector working. It wasn’t quite as good as the box implied but it was cute and you liked how it looked. “Woah, hey, that’s pretty cool.” Ben said, stairing up at the stars on the ceiling, “I thought it was gonna be a bit shitter to be honest.” You were placing the projector on the coffee table, laughing, but as you turned you nearly choked. The memes had been right, it was hot. You could see practically everything. Ben was oblivious to your staring, “Babe you did so well, these are so comfy I love them.” He did a bit of a turn in them, letting you see his ass for a moment before the outline of his cock was back in front of your eyes. “Honey why don’t you come sit,” you patted the couch beside you. Ben seemed a little surprised but he obliged. “In fact, why don’t you put your feet up,” you scooted off the couch so Ben had space to stretch out. “Uhhh, yeah alright. Don’t you want to sit too though?” “Oh I will,” you let Ben get settled before pouncing, straddling him and leaning in to kiss him. Ben hummed into the kiss, his arms automatically wrapping around you and pulling you close. “Not sure what that was about,” he said softly when you finally broke apart, “but I’m not complaining. Just tell me what I did to get you so horny, so I can do it again.” “Did you not look at yourself in a mirror when you changed into these pants?” “No,” “So you didn’t realise how visible your dick is?” “Is it?” You laughed, “This isn’t helping make you seem less old. That’s what the memes are about and I can tell you they’re spot on. I’ve been staring at your cock since you changed.” “Oh, wel-” “Shh, don’t say anything else, it’ll only distract from making out.” Ben groaned as you rocked forward, his cock pressed against your cunt, “Yeah okay, good plan.

#my writing #my blurbs #blurb advent 2023 #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine

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dvar-trek · 4 months

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Romance Roundup: Part 1

this summer, after succumbing to my knitting injuries, i fell into a romance novel rabbit-hole. they are like candy for me. they're low-effort, fun, a quick source of joy, and keep me from endlessly scrolling jpost for israel news. also i can usually finish one in a day or two. so all in all, i ended up reading a total of 90 romance/kissing books.

the stats:

84 queer

13 novella-length

4 that i really feel i gave a fair shot but didn't finish

the top 7 (in no particular order):

A Taste of Gold and Iron by Alexandra Rowland- a fantasy book wherein the prince and his sworn bodyguard fall in love. some light (as in dangerous but not overly complex) political intrigue. plenty of world-building, but the author doesn't ever bore you with explanations you don't want. the writing is a little clumsy at times, but in spite of myself i found this book and the characters so utterly charming.

Enlightenment Trilogy (Provoked, Beguiled, and Enlightened) by Joanna Chambers- takes place in regency-late georgian scotland. two men who are dedicated to their respectable (but very different) lives. in order to keep what's important to them, they each plan to go through life just having anonymous, one-off encounters with other men, and needless to say, they upend that for one another. features radical politics, arguments about what matters in life, george iv's visit to scotland, and confronting your past. i thought about this extensively, but i simply do not think i can describe the plot in a way that will be helpful. you are just going to have to trust me. a linked short story and bonus-epilogue-novella are also availble on the author's website.

10 Things That Never Happened by Alexis Hall- man sort of accidentally fakes amnesia to keep his asshole boss from firing everyone. only they end up sort of falling for each other for real. modern setting, funny and sad, and the kind of slow-burn romance that makes your chest hurt. it does take place over christmas, but not in a fluffy, christmassy way. like, even i, America's Number One Christmas Hater, who would never have touched it had i known about the christmas element going in, found it to be completely tolerable amount of christmas, and a thoroughly enjoyable book. i read everything on my top 7 list multiple times, but this is one that really rewards your second read-through.

Captive Prince Trilogy (Captive Prince, Prince's Gambit, and Kings Rising) by C.S. Pacat- fantasy setting wherein a prince is kidnapped and enslaved in an enemy realm, and eventually has to ally with his cruel captor in order to save his own kingdom. plenty of political maneuvering, military skirmishes, court intrigue, and secret night mission shenanigans (with disguises). another chest-aching slow burn that rewards multiple read-throughs. there's also a linked short story collection, The Summer Palace, which includes a bonus epilogue.

A Rulebook for Restless Rogues (book 2 in Lucky Lovers of London) by Jess Everlee- victorian-era romance, featuring drag, lifelong best friends, and some of the best (hottest) sex scenes on this list. the proprietor of an underground gentlemen's club for queer men fights to keep his club open and his people safe, both from the law and from the volatile aristocrat who owns the place. he also definitely doesn't have feelings for his best friend. anymore. probably.

England World (Think of England, and prequel Proper English) by KJ Charles- two excellent books; one a houseparty/treason investigation and one a houseparty turned murder mystery. as everyone knows, it's extremely dangerous to attend a houseparty while single, because you will fall hopelessly in love, but you will also be in mortal peril. i am. too fucking feral about these characters to say anything useful. i am completely aware that this does nothing to help my case, but i cannot help it. i am unable to be normal about them, even in the effort to convince people to read these books. also please note that even though the covers are. quite bad. the writing is excellent and well-researched. also also, there's a bonus epilogue on the author's website, featuring additional sex, good jokes, and bad poetry.

An Unnatural Vice (book 2 in Sins of the City) by KJ Charles- the whole trilogy is worth reading (in order!) but this is definitely the strongest of the 3, and i found it to be the most compelling of the romances. a victorian-era mystery/suspense series, featuring an inheritance plot, murders in the fog, and fake séances. a "spiritualist" who defrauds the wealthy and the investigative jouranlist determined to expose his tricks find themselves hate-fucking, running from murderers, arguing about class politics, and both saving and upending each others' lives.

honorable mention:

Sailor's Delight by Rose Lerner- #1 brain-rewiring book of the year. 1813 sailing master in the british royal navy and his naval agent fall in love. the book takes place over 1 week of shore leave (which coincides with the high holy days), although they have known each other (and known that they can never be together) for almost a decade. uh. listen. this book is both fun and well-researched, but it is not, like, Good™. there is a shirtless man on the cover and there's not even any fucking in the book. the main characters are named Elie and Augie which is completely unsexy. BUT. they changed my brain chemistry and i've plotted out their entire lives in my head from the moment they met and i'm fucking feral about them.

romance roundup part 2

#wip wednesday #or rather #in lieu of having had any wips wednesday in the last 6 months.#the full list of books is breaking the tumblr post editor #so we'll start with this.#i've read 90 romance novels since july ama 😌#romance roundup

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kipscorner · 1 year

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-- Anything in parentheses (abc) feel free to delete! -- Anything in square brackets [abc] feel free to change! -- This is a long post, so please remember to tag “long post tw” or some kind of varient of the sort so you don’t clog mobile users dashes/people who don’t have “shorten posts.” turned on! :D

“Doesn't this seem like a bit much?”

“This is what Christmas is all about! Can't you feel it?”

“You guys, where are we? I think we should go back.”

“Serves them right, those Yuletide-loving sickly-sweet, nog-sucking cheer mongers!”

“I really don't like them. No, I don't.”

“I've been much too tolerant of these (Whovenile) delinquents and their innocent, victimless pranks.”

“So, they want to get to know me, do they?”

“I guess I could use a little social interaction.”

“Yeah, you bet. Ho, ho, ho, and stuff…”

“You see, [name]? The city is a dangerous place.”

“Now, please, don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.”

“Well, it's just, I look around at you and [Mom] and everyone getting all kerbobbled. Doesn't this seem...superﬂuous?”

“I think they were up on the mountain playing with matches, or defacing public property, or....”

“Take a look at his mailbox, (sweetie). Not a single Christmas card, in or out… Ever!”

“And for the rest of you: Jury duty! Jury duty! Jury duty! Blackmail. Pink slip. Chain letter. Eviction notice. Jury duty!”

“Well, that worked out nicely.”

“[Max], let's go. Our work here is finished.”

“Don't you know you shouldn't take things that don't belong to you? What's your problem? Are you a wild animal?”

“Saving you? Is that what you think I was doing? Wrong-o.”

“You've been practicing your Christmas wrapping! I am so proud of you.”

“My, I've never seen so many beautiful Christmas lights, [Betty Lou!]”

“It's handcrafted and almost 100 years old.”

“Come on, hurry up, Slowpoke.”

“What's that stench? It's fantastic!”

“One man's toxic sludge is another man's potpourri.”

“Did Christmas change or just me?"

“First floor, factory rejects.”

“But we did our worst. And that's all that matters.”

“At least I scared the bejeebles out of that little [girl] at the post office. [She]'ll be scarred for life, if we're lucky.”

“Funny she didn't rat on us, though. Must be afraid of reprisals.”

“If you utter so much as one syllable I'll hunt you down and gut you like a fish!”

“I've got all the company I need right here.”

“I'm an idiot!”

“You're an idiot!”

“Am I just eating because I'm bored?”

“In your own words, please tell me everything you know about [the Grinch.]”

“Hey, honey, our baby is here! He looks just like your boss.”

“It was Christmas Eve, and a strange wind blew that night.”

“Do you want a Christmas cookie?”

“Don't forget, tomorrow is our big Christmas gift exchange.Everyone bring a special gift for a special someone.”

“You don't have a chance with [her].”

“It was a horrible day when they were so cruel to [him]. And I could hardly bear it.”

“And that was the last time we ever saw [him]. The very last time.”

“I hate you.Hate, hate, hate. Hate, hate, hate. Double hate. Loathe entirely!”

“Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!”

“I may do something drastic.”

“You made that up! It doesn't say that.”

“But the book does say: The cheer-meister is the one who deserves a back slap or a toast. And it goes to the soul at Christmas who needs it most."

“Blast this Christmas music. It's joyful and triumphant.”

“The impudence! The audacity! The unmitigated gall!”

“You called down the thunder now, get ready for the boom!”

“Gaze into the face of fear!”

“You see? Even now the terror is welling up inside you.”

“Run for your life before I kill again!”

“Maybe you need a time-out.”

“Kids today. So desensitized by movies and television.”

“"Holiday Whobie-what-y"?”

“I know you hate Christmas, but what if it's all just a misunderstanding?”

“I myself am having some Yuletide doubts.”

“Award? You never mentioned an award!”

“Was anyone emotionally shattered?”

“Come on, a minute ago I couldn't shut you up! Details, details!”

“I don't know if it's that adorable twinkle in your eye or that nonconformist streak that reminds me of a younger, less hairy me.”

“Who knows? This Whobilation could change my entire outlook on life!”

“You can make snow angels later.”

“The nerve of those (Whos). Inviting me down there on such short notice. Even if I wanted to go, my schedule wouldn't allow it.”

“4:00, wallow in self-pity. 4:30, stare into the abyss. 5:00, solve world hunger tell no one. 5:30, jazzercise. 6:30, dinner with me… I can't cancel that again. 7:00, wrestle with my self-loathing… I'm booked! If I bumped the loathing to 9:00, I'd have time to lay in bed stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness.”

“It's not a dress, it's a kilt! Sicko!”

“This is ridiculous. If I can't find something nice to wear, I'm not going! That's it, I'm not going.”

“Ohh, ahh, mmm… That's it, I'm not going.”

“[He] isn't here. What? [He] didn't show? Who could have predicted this?

“All right. I'll swing by for a minute, allow them to envy me grab a handful of popcorn shrimp, and blow out of there.”

“But what if it's a cruel prank? What if it's a cash bar? How dare they!”

“All right, I'll go. But I'll be fashionably late.”

“All right. I've made my decision! I'm going, and that's that!”

“Come on, while I'm young!”

“But first, a little family reunion.”

“Are you two still living?”

“Sweater? What are you talkin' about? No, I can't! I can't do that!”

“No. I can't do it, honestly. I'm not ready. It's too much, too soon!”

“I've got a lawyer. There'll be hell to pay!”

“Look at the time. I really should be getting back.”

“Bring it on! Is that all you got? Is that all you got? Come on!”

“That's what it's all about, isn't it? That's what it's always been about!”

“Look, I don't want to make waves, but this whole Christmas season is stupid, stupid, stupid!”

“There is, however one teeny-tiny Christmas tradition I find quite meaningful. Mistletoe.”

“Burn, baby! Burn!”

“Evening, folks. Mind if I ride along? You might want to scooch over.”

“You fellas all right? How about a nice hat?”

“I'm hurt, [Lou]. I'm hurt, and I don't hurt easily.”

“But you and your family.... I'm so disappointed.”

“I just wanted everybody to be together for Christmas.”

“Suffering snorkelblatz! They're relentless!”

“Oh, no. I'm speaking in rhyme!”

“I must stop this whole thing. Why for year after year I've put up with it now.”

“Are you having a holly, jolly Christmas? Wrong-o!”

“If you're not going to help me then you might as well…”

“You're as cuddly as a cactus and as charming as an eel.”

“Just face the music, you're a monster.”

“Your heart's an empty hole.”

“I asked for three-quarters, not five-eighths. Stay focused!”

“Air bag is a little slow. But that's what these tests are for!”

“Talk about a recluse. He only comes out once a year, and he never catches any flak for it!”

“Probably lives up there to avoid the taxes.”

“No, forget that part. We'll improvise.”

“Saving Christmas was a lousy ending. Way too commercial.”

“We're gonna die! We're gonna die! I'm going to throw up, and then I'm gonna die!”

“[Mommy], tell it to stop!”

“Almost lost my cool there.”

“It's Santa! Go right back to sleep.”

“[He]'s planning a double-twisting interrupted forward-flying 2-and-a-half with a combo tuck and pike. High degree of difficulty.”

“Blasted water weight! Goes right to my hips.”

“Okay, fellas. Show time.”

“[Mr. Santa], what are you doing with our tree?”

“[Santa], what's Christmas really about?”

“I know [he]'s mean and hairy and smelly. [His] hands might be cold and clammy. But I think [he]'s actually kind of sweet.”

“Nice kid. Bad judge of character.”

“Clearance sale. Everything must go.”

“That wasn't so bad, was it, [Max]?”

“What an embarrassment! I've been robbed!”

“I wonder who could have done this.”

“But did anyone listen to me? No.”

“[Cindy], I hope you're very proud of what you've done.”

“You're glad. You're glad everything is gone. You're glad that [the Grinch] virtually wrecked.... No, not wrecked, pulverized Christmas. Is that what I'm hearing?”

“You can't hurt Christmas, [Mr. Mayor], because it isn't about the gifts or the contests or the fancy lights. That's what [Cindy]'s been trying to tell everyone! And me. [She]'s been trying to tell me.”

“What's wrong with you? This is a child!”

“[She]'s my child. And she happens to be right, by the way.”

“I don't need anything more for Christmas than this right here, my family!”

“Now for the final note in my symphony of downright nasty not-niceness! The crescendo of my odious opus! The wailing and the gnashing of teeth. The bellowing of the bitterly bummed out! It'll be like music to my ears!”

“Somehow or other, it came Just the same!”

“How could it be so? It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes or bags!”

“Maybe Christmas doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

“Help me! I'm feeling!”

“What's happening to me? I'm all toasty inside. And I'm leaking?”

“All right, that's enough! Knock it off! beat it! Get out of here! One step at a time!

“Wait! This can't happen! It shouldn't! It couldn't! It mustn't! It wouldn't! Not now, not then, not ever again!”

“What are you doing up there!?”

“I came to see you. No one should be alone on Christmas.”

“I got you, [Cindy Lou]!”

“Are you kiddin'? The sun is bright and the powder's bitchin'!”

“Now scoot over! It's my turn to drive!”

“Now you listen to me, [young] [lady]! Even if we're horribly mangled there'll be no sad faces on Christmas.”

“By the way, these lights match your outfit perfectly.”

“This could be more difficult to negotiate.”

“Out of the way! I have no insurance!”

“Run for your lives! Watch out, I can't stop!”

“Aren't you gonna cuff me? Put me in a choke hold? Blind me with pepper spray?”

“Sorry but my heart belongs to someone else.”

“Cheer up, dude. It's Christmas.”

“There's nothin' like the holidays.”

“Too late! That'll be mine.”

#rp meme #inbox meme #sentence starters #the grinch meme #christmas inbox meme

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i--antimony · 4 months

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last tuesday of 2023!

i thought about making this my Yearly Roundup for last tuesday of the year but i think instead i will make this a normal tuesdaypost, and do a big yearly reflection on friday or saturday for last shabbos of the year :)

listening: twilight mirage, still in that holiday special, episode 23. the way that there are eight fuckin episodes for that special........in part 1 or 2 they make a comment how they might have to do three parts and i was like. lol. lmao, even. i'm in the bit right now where they're doing an election and it's very funny. thisbe as the debate moderator made me laugh out loud.

reading: the best part of the game awards this year was the fashion, alyssa mercante: i looooved some of these looks. love the art corset on slide 4, jay-ann lopez on slide 15, the pleated dress on slide 17, the MATCHING BABY ON SLIDE 19, and the author's whole everything on slide 20.

sff's big fat problem, r. k. duncan: i was already aware of some of the stuff talked about here but i am definitely guilty of having less overt things - i.e. goblin emperor reference in there - totally fly by me. i feel like i saw a lot of people talking about rowling's fatphobia after she went mask-off but she is definitely on the more malicious end of the spectrum, it's a much much much more baked in problem than people give it credit for. thinking also about the locked tomb, which i love, but also makes some very weird comments about ortus that i did not clock at all until someone else pointed it out. just something i'm thinking about lately.

the world is hard, dinner doesn't need to be, julia turshen: what it says on the tin. some recipe ideas, cut down to mental bare essentials.

old growth, brawlite: saved the fanfic for last. obsessed with this. it's so so good. the format is a really neat idea that i don't know if i've seen done before. like, using the 'comment section' to point out 'things in the background of shots'? genius. i am eating it up. i should have signed up for this exchange. maybe next year.

playing: fallow. i might buy some games that are on sale tho lol, i've seen both pyre and ghostwire: tokyo recommended this week. latter is no longer on sale unfortunately but i am noting it down for later.

watching: the fashion industry hates older women, mina le

history of bathing, bernadette banner

aaaand a short film that a grad student in my department made as a project. it's. not good. like i'm happy that he's doing hobbies or whatever but this short film commits the cardinal sin of being neither good nor bad, Just Boring. 2/10.

making: the [redacted project] is almost done!! i have 10 rows left. each row takes me about 15 minutes. i will definitely finish it by the end of the week, fringe and all. no pictures yet for obvious reasons but it will be in the first tuesdaypost of the year for 2024! the biggest challenge now is the point of contact on my left hand where i rest the knitting needle against my middle finger is aggravating on a sensory standpoint from overuse, so i have been knitting with one glove on that hand which has helped a lot.

there was a preview of these last week, but i added finishing touches to my gavle goat holiday cards! i used a metallic sharpie to add some horn embellishments and wrote a little note on the back, and mailed out a bunch :)

misc: the first christmas eve/day of my life where i didn't get chinese food!!! shock, horror, etc. i'm at my roommate's family's place so i experienced a real christmas situation. it was fine. her family & their home is like ... hallmark card vibes and idk how i feel about it. i want wonton soup :(

#tuesdayposting

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overtlydinosaurian · 4 months

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As we get closer to Christmas eve, I hope everyone thanks the women in their lives for making it happen. For cooking the feats, for cleaning the house, organizing and buying the presents, reading and considering your wants and needs, and decorating. Yes men might sometimes do this too but let's be real- for the most part, they most certainly are not.

Below is the article (not sure if paywalled, either way it's easier to just read in app). All emphasis added is my own.

https://www.irishtimes.com/life-and-style/people/christmas-is-a-feminist-issue-who-does-all-the-menial-emotional-mental-labour-1.4095802

Christmas is a feminist issue: Who does all the menial, emotional, mental labour?

It is time to strike – You never know, you just might get a Christmas miracle

My family is blessed. We live in a house with a self-cleaning bathroom. What’s that, you ask? Well, it’s a bathroom that regularly replenishes itself with clean towels and full tubes of toothpaste. The loo roll automatically replaces itself and the small bin under the sink empties itself when full. The hot press is refilled with clean bed linen, and clothes in the laundry basket somehow get themselves to the washing machine and back to dry by what seems like magic.

Mea culpa. I tell a lie. My family used to live in such a wondrous place until last week, when I went on bathroom strike. For five days I stopped doing all the necessary chores associated with the bathroom, and yes, even though I am very, very far from being a house proud or tidy person, I found it difficult. But in the service of feminism if not sanity, I bit my lip at the empty loo roll holder, the dirty towel still on the handrail and the toothpaste stains smeared all over the handbasin, until eventually I could stand it no more and I informed the other people I share a home with that there was no magic elf and if they wanted the bathroom cleaned they would have to do it themselves.

Cue shock, horror and disbelief; dear Lord, you would think I’d told them that Santa himself doesn’t exist.

Fortunately, however, we know that not only does Santa exist, but Mrs Santa will send her elves to earth to do all those chores that need to be done in every household before Christmas. You know the ones I’m talking about: the ordering gifts online and ensuring they are delivered on time: The gift wrapping of the pressies that need to go under the tree (has anyone seen the sellotape?) and purchase of all those itty-bitty gifts needed for Christmas Stockings (the dog needs one too) that hang over the fireplace.

There’s the extra decorations that make the house look properly festive – don’t forget a new wreath for the front door, they’ll be sold out before December 15th! – All this in addition to the necessary house cleaning, food buying and meal cooking that must be done before we ring in the New Year.

Oh sorry. There I go, lying again. Because whatever about Santa, sadly there have been no houseworking elves in my world since I left the Mammy and moved into my own home. That is when I discovered that there are three types of unpaid labour that women are expected to do, without thanks or recognition let alone financial compensation.

Firstly, there is menial housework, as in the aforementioned bathroom and sitting room and repeat ad nauseum. I am talking about all the repetitive, boring stuff we have to do so that Health and Safety doesn’t stage an intervention. This is the work that is done primarily by women – and when the men do it, they expect a reprieve from all menial jobs for at least a month as well as a huge clap on the back while a Greek chorus plays “Isn’t He Wonderful” behind them. (Obviously, I’m talking about the majority of men here. There is a lot of empirical evidence to back me up, so please don’t email, text or tweet me saying you’re a bloke that does housework and I’m a nagging, ball breaking, feminazi. I get lots of communication like that already thank you.)

Second, there’s mental labour, which includes the planning of dinners, school lunches, kids clothes, dental appointments. It’s lying in bed figuring out play dates, present buying and how on earth you’re going to get the dishwasher repaired while picking up the groceries, visiting your Granny and working a full time job. It’s when you nag at your spouse or kids about having to do it all solo and they roll their eyes and say, “make a list” or “just tell me what needs doing”.

This drives me crazy because in the workplace, recognising and organising what needs to be done and then delegating those tasks is called management. This is a respected job which is rewarded with appropriate remuneration and status. When a woman does the same at home, it’s called nagging. There is no reward and no appreciation of your managerial skills. There is definitely no status associated with it. Except the status of skivvy and martyr.

Third, there’s emotional labour, which involves ensuring that everyone stays happy, included, cared for and satisfied.

Arlie Hochschild, the sociologist who introduced this phrase, defined it as work (paid and unpaid), where you “induce or suppress feeling in order to sustain the outward countenance that produces the proper state of mind in others”. Bluntly, it’s putting a smile on your face as you serve Christmas dinner when all you want to do is tell the world to feck off and then lock yourself in the sitting room with the dog and a large (bottle of) gin to watch reruns of Poirot (me, pretty much every Christmas Day).

You don’t have to be a feminist to resist doing the three types of work I mention above. You just have to be a man. Because, to answer Caitlin Moran’s question, “Are the boys doing it?” in the vast amount of cases they most certainly are not. They will leave the cooking and cleaning to you but assume they are doing their fair share if they fill the dishwasher after Christmas dinner and wash the odd pot.

It is the biggest mystery of all time. Why – despite all the advances of feminism - do women still do the lion’s share of housework, the second shift? Why, in 2019, does the latest ESRI study show that women spend double the time of men on caring and more than twice as much time on housework? The simple answer is that most men don’t want to do all that stuff. Why should they – it’s thankless work. And while women continue to cook, clean for them and pick up their dirty socks, they don’t have to.

Ladies, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s time to strike. And then wait to see if Mrs Santa sends those house elves to visit. You never know, you just might get a Christmas miracle. And if not, at least you’ll have a less stressful one.

#Christmas #feminism

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every-aj-needs-an-angel · 8 months

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Rules: post 10 of your favourite comfort movies then tag 10 people.

Thank you for the tag @its-all-ineffable 💖

The Holiday. Hot people Christmassy romcom, what's not to like? What Jack Black does with his character!! Beautiful!! And do I need to say more than Kate Winslet? Also single dad Jude Law in glasses!! Cameron Diaz rocking out to The Killers!! And driving a Mini down a country road and nearly getting wiped out by a lorry. So accurate it's *chefs kisses* Favourite scenes include: Arthur's moment to shine, Miles and Iris in Blockbuster and the tent scene with the kids with an honourable mention for Mr Napkinhead 😂 It's my go-to movie whenever I'm sad because it's just so stupidly funny and adorable.

How The Grinch Stole Christmas. Jim Carrey. That's all I have to say. Honestly, I've seen this film a million times. I can quote it by heart and do so regularly much to my mums annoyance. The schedule scene is very me anytime I'm invited anywhere 😂 some favourite quotes "Am I just eating because I'm bored" "Hate, hate, hate. Hate, hate, hate. Double hate. LOATHE ENTIRELY!" "We're gonna die! I'm going to throw up, and then I'm gonna die!" "The insolence! The audacity! The unmitigated gall!" "Nice kid... bad judge of character" (absolutely me with my niblings) It's just the perfect remedy whenever I'm ill.

The Muppets Christmas Carol. I love all the adaptations but this one is my favourite. Me and my mum snuggle up every Christmas Eve and sing along. It reminds me of the magic of childhood Christmases and soothes something deep in my soul.

The Old Guard. This is the only adrenaliney one cos I have anxiety and I need chill shit if I watch a film but Joe & Nicky are my perfect Immortal Husbands and the tiny details of their relationship are all-encompassing and easily distract from all the murder and kidnap 😂

Mary Poppins. Do I need to say more than Julie Andrews? Dick Van Dyke. The outfits. The songs. Suffragettes. Tea parties on the ceiling. Dancing penguins. The merry-go-round horses. When I was a kid my mum used to foster so our house was always full of kids who needed someone to love them, make them feel safe and bring them some joy. That's probably why Poppins is one of my comfort characters, my mum was her.

Alice In Wonderland. Any of the adaptations. They're all brilliant. I do love the 1951 animation though mainly bc I adore the dormouse scene but becoming BFFs with a load of weird and wonderful creatures in a dreamstate is just *chefs kisses* Any scene with The Mad Hatter in any of the adaptations is my favourite but I am a sucker for the clean cup move down scene.

Sherlock Gnomes. I also love any Sherlock adaption but this one's just hysterical. Watson is just done™️. Sherlock and Juliet's squirrel disguise when sneaking through the park kills me every time. Moriarty as a pastry mascot and the fact he has dumb gargoyles as his assistants. Perfection really. Honestly, this film is just so fucking stupid you can't possibly feel sad when you watch it.

Monsters, Inc. bc it might've been like twenty years but I still want a Sully hug!! Also the pure beautiful hilarious chaos that is this film cracks me up. "Mike Wazowski", "Always watching" and "Put that thing back where it came from or so help me" are just killer lines. I absolutely adore The Abominable Snowman too he's just too sweet.

The Addams Family. Any of the films. All of the films. Gomez and Morticia are ultimate couple goals. They adore each other. Support their kids unconditionally. So kind and generous it often gets them in trouble. They're just perfect.

Red, White And Royal Blue. Last but not least, only because it's the newest. This film was amazing!! I adored the book and although the film is different I love that it's basically a 'what if' fanfic of itself. It was genuinely lovely to be able to watch a queer story and be able to relax with it!! Don't get me wrong I love how profound queer films can be but they either have me gripped in anxiety waiting for the shoe to drop or have me reaching for a comedian to brush away the deep-seated sadness. I felt so safe and yeah they have their ups and downs like every couple but I think I'd have felt the same safety with those characters even if I hadn't read the book first. 5* 10/10 highly recommend. Will be watching this on repeat for the foreseeable future.

Absolutely no pressure tags @mickalaem @flowercrowngods @auroraplume @estrellami-1 @i-less-than-three-you @mentallyundone @hbyrde36 @penny00dreadful @adhdsummer @writingfanficsfan 💖

#tag games #comfort films

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piggyinthemiddle · 1 year

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How Porky got so fat...🐷

In this blog, I wanted to talk a little more about my progress with my weight. I've seen many insecure people lately, unsure gainers and feedees who doubt themselves and aren't sure whether fattening up is the right way for them to go.

Of course, I can not make that decision for you, but at least, I can share my "road to pork" with you. Maybe that helps, in any way whatsoever.

Before I start : If you have a negative opinion about this, just keep it to yourself. I don't really give a crap about what you think, and it just ruins the vibe for those who wanna read this. Thanks, big fat preech. ;)

🐽 How it all started 🐽

I knew that this fetish was part of me for many, many years. I've always been rather chubby and it never actually bothered me. I often fantasised about getting bigger, and being fed, also into extreme sizes and under extreme circumstances, but that was it : Fantasies. Never would I ever have thought I'd start doing it, in real life, to my actual body. Not because I didn't want to, but because I felt like I have to fit into society norms, and I shouldn't enjoy this because it's bad, blah blah blah. You know the deal.

All of that turned around in very early 2019, maybe even late 2018, when I started gaining some weight randomly because I didn't do as much sport and activity as before, for work reasons and shift schedules. I softened up a little and as soon as I realised, it turned me on like crazy. The fantasies got more intense and at some point, after several months, I decided I wanted to try it out "just once". So, I covered myself in unhealthy foods and stuffed my face for a day, and I felt so alive and great that it got me addicted. Porky's first "official stuffing", if you will.

However, "Just once" quickly turned into "several times a month", and I gained more and more weight, ending up with a small but chubby belly by the end of 2019.

🐽 The Pandemic 🐽

Boy oh boy.. Then came Covid. I grew more and more bored, being locked at home, and overeating became a very normal, almost every day habit. Mainly for the sexual pleasure it gave me, but also just for seeing my body grow bigger and wider by the week. I took it rather easy for the first few months of 2020, but then, around June, I started to consider turning myself into a piggy for my own enjoyment. I honestly didn't care much about other peoples opinions on my body at that point. I just wanted to grow into exactly what I wanted to be.

Considering became choice in late August, and with the first day of October 1st, 2020, I began to fatten myself up with a plan and a schedule.

It worked incredibly well, I gained very fast and my body started to become rounded and big within a few months. 2020 turned into 2021, and by summer '21, I had gained over 35 kilos of pure fat. But it wasn't enough. I needed a lot more. So, I adjusted my calories and my schedules and overdid it even more. My kilos piled up on me and I slowly became huge. On Christmas eve 2021, at the family gathering, I was stuffed like an actual pig and my gut was so full and tight that I needed a 2h nap from all the pressure in my stomach. To this day, I've no idea if anyone noticed just how extremely fattened up I was that night, but if they did, they never mentioned anything..

🐽 2022.. and NOW 🐽

I haven't stopped fattening myself since mid 2020. I gained over 60 kilos at this point, my BMI is at 47 and I'm rated "extremely morbidly obese" already. It shows, especially on my gut. If you've seen me on Grommr, you've probably seen the huge lard-filled belly I carry around. I'll add a picture here, too.

I'm not even joking or overdramamtising it to be kinky, I really am extremely fattened and ripened at this point and my belly looks like I'm about to burst when it's fully stuffed and pushing outwards. I'm covered in very light stretch marks, my belly is shaped like a giant lard ball and sometimes it hangs down so heavily after my sessions that I need to rest it on my kitchen or bathroom counters to be able to stand up straight.

Recently, I started showing myself off on the internet, like a big prize hog, and I've got very similar feedback there too. Many people seem to be fascinated with my shape and my fat pig gut, they want to see me in all sorts of different angles, and I'm happily providing. I love the attention, I love being treated like this, and I love being 'reduced' to what I am now.

People want to fatten me more, and I'm accepting it. I'm getting bigger and fatter for likes now, and I'd have never ever thought this would ever be possible. I stuff myself tight and round, post the outcome and get even more validation. This has been my absolute dream so far.

I'm no longer a chubby little piggy. By now, I'm a huge, fat, ripe porker. And I love every second of it. 🐖🥓

Here's one of my most recent pictures, taken immediately after finishing my fattening session for the day.

I stuffed myself so tight here that you can't even see my fatrolls anymore. They clearly show and hang down when I'm empty-bellied in the mornings.

Enjoy. 🐷✌🏻

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liminalpebble · 6 months

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Violet, Chapter 21: Love is Patient, Love is Kind

Minors DNI

Masterlist link

Chapter 21: Love is Patient, Love is kind.

It was nearing the end of the Christmas holiday and time was waltzing drunkenly into New Year's celebrations. Although Will and Violet were very much enjoying the company of friends and family, they dearly missed the opportunity to be alone together, and didn't dare to steal away for any more intimate moments with Garrett lurking.

The final event of the season, the crown jewel of winter, was a grand New Year's Eve dinner and ball at the art museum. To her delight, Violetta and Will found themselves sitting together at the long banquet table, surrounded by twinkling silver and luscious courses, engulfing them in a riot of color.

Violetta smiled to Will as they toasted after their host's speech and said, “You're looking very handsome this evening, Reverend.”

He grinned back, winking his twinkling blue eye so only she could see. “And you're looking exceptionally lovely, Miss Vespero.”

She couldn't help blushing. “Very kind of you to say, thank you.”

Will looked down and began to cut a vegetable on his plate, fixing his eyes on it because if he looked at her any longer, the whole hall would probably see that he was smitten.

“So, how have you been faring over this holiday? I imagine that active mind of yours doesn't prefer to be away from studies for too long. You must be terribly bored.”

“No! Not at all. All this socializing has kept me quite busy. And although it's pleasant, I'm beginning to feel my social engines running out of steam. I think I'm ready for quiet, empty rooms and my nose in a book...or several.”

Will chuckled. “I'm feeling exactly the same way. It's lovely, certainly, but having time to one's self is crucial, in my opinion.” He paused, chewing slowly and thoughtfully as he chewed over heavier problems in his mind, then asked, “Have you had any word from your family, regarding the Ambroses' letters and my own?”

She looked down, and even in profile Will could see the worry painting her lovely features. “Nothing yet, I'm afraid, but it's still rather soon for the post to make its way around.”

You are so afraid, aren't you my sweet darling. Will thought, wishing so dearly that he could hold her and ease her fears. All he was able to do was send a letter defending her character as her teacher and reverend, warning against Garrett's accusations, and it felt like too little. However, together with Spencer's and the Ambroses' letters, they'd built a robust case for her. As they all gathered the papers together to send, sitting around the Ambroses' table, Spencer's hazel eyes clouded over briefly as if he were at a funeral and holding back tears. Violet had reached across to hold his hand saying, “George, I know this must be hard for you...defending me against a friend you have cared for so dearly. I am forever grateful.”

“Of course,” he said, forcing a smile, “It was the only right and decent thing to do after his behavior. I mourn our friendship, but it is well and truly over, as it must be.”

“But, of course it still hurts,” she acknowledged thoughtfully.

He whispered, eyes becoming distant with thought, “More than I ever imagined.”

----

The courses were cleared and the guests were funneled into the ballroom in a parade of jewel tones and satin across the shiny marble floor. The dulcet tones of chamber music were already swirling in the air. Before long they began to play a waltz and Will made his way excitedly to Violetta where she stood against the wall, looking pensive and troubled. He was hoping his little surprise might just improve her mood and cheer her heart.

Reaching out his lovely hand, he asked, “Miss Vespero, would you do me the honor of a waltz?”

She gave him that broad, knowing smile that he loved; the one which contained the hint of a haughty smirk, the one that made him want to wrestle with her until they would pin each other to the ground, tearing off their fine clothing to rut like animals. “Of course, Reverend! What a delightful surprise! I didn't know you knew how to waltz.”

He offered that broad bright smile that made her weak in the knees and said proudly, “Jo has been teaching me. I was a rather slow student, but I practiced for some time.” He lowered his voice now that the music swelled and he was fairly certain no one else could hear him. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You have, Will. You always do,” she said, dark eyes sparkling with admiration. It felt wonderful to have his tall strong body guiding her, so much like he did in more intimate moments. That broad warm hand on the small of her back as they twirled around the floor was such a comfort and a balm to her troubled mind. “My God, you're really fantastic at this!” she said as he spun her gently in a complicated little move. “I'm impressed.”

“I'm flattered. But you know how I am when I set my mind to something.”

“Relentless,” she said, dark eyes boring into him. Smoldering. “Stubborn and inexhaustible, sometimes to the exasperation of others.”

Will raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “But enough about you, darling.”

They both chuckled hard at the truth of that.

As the night wound down, the Ambroses' announced that they had decided to stay overnight with friends. They were enjoying their company far too much to come back home, wanting instead to chat with them until the wee hours and then sleep drunkenly in their guest room. Will and Violet realized, with enormous delight, that this meant a house to themselves. Without realizing it, the Ambroses' had just given the secret couple the best Christmas present they could ever ask for.

“Will, can you be a dear and see that our Violet takes a carriage back to the house with you?” Charles slurred out drunkenly.

Will chuckled. “Certainly Charles, I'll guard her with my life and honor. Will you and the misses be well guarded as well.”

“Indeed!” Katherine chimed in. “Don't worry about us. Off you go!”

----

“Will!” Violetta gasped, interrupting the storm of their grasping hands and desperate kisses in the faint candlelight.

“Yes, darling,” he huffed out with a final warm wet lap at her neck.

“I want you...completely..tonight,” she said, looking into his eyes with a softness she saved for him alone.

Will caught his breath, then asked in wonder, “Bella...are you sure? I want it to be special for you...perfect, and I don't want to risk anything that would compromise your future.”

“It will be perfect because it will be with you. I have...a precaution...I can use to keep any unwanted uh...”

He stroked her hair away from her blushing face as he said, “Yes, I know what your mean. You needn't be shy about it.”

“Alright...let me just..go...”

He chuckled and stroked her hair again. “It's alright, darling. It's for the best. Thank you for taking care of us both, my brave smart girl.” His voice dropped an octave as he whispered into her ear, “I'll reward you generously for your good work,” and it sent a shiver down her spine.

She returned to his quarters still in her ball gown, having taken her precautions and prepared herself. Her cheeks still burned with embarrassment.

“Come here,” Will said, soothing her with his commanding presence.

“Yes, Father,” she replied in a mockery of obedience that made his cock ache.

He gave her sly look, “Oh, you vixen, you know just what it does to me when you call me that.”

“I do,” she said with a haughty lift of her chin. Her hair had been tousled free during their foreplay, and her skin shone with an animal warmth. He could smell her sweet sweat and licked it from her skin.

He hummed in a deep grown, “tonight, Bella, you're making an animal of me.” Will bit lightly at her shoulder as he pulled away the satin from her breasts, wasting no time to in tasting them and pressing those perfect sharp cheekbones into her pliant skin while he sucked and lapped at her.

She began to attempt removing her gown entirely but Will met her with a warning, feral growl and a hand around her wrist. “No. Leave it on.”

“Yes, Father.” That made him smile deviously. And as they both panted she could feel the press of his hard cock even through the sophisticated layers of dress clothes. He panted as he snaked down her body and slid the many skirts up around her, blossoming outward like a flower, and in the center he would find the sweetest nectar. He bared her lower half and the contrast of those layers with her naked caramel skin undid him. He tore his shirt off over his head and Violetta watched, savoring each ripple of his muscles, the contours of his broad rib cage undulating with his movements until his creamy bare skin shown in the faint golden light. Suddenly she felt the hard bump of his shoulders beneath her legs as he dove his tongue inside her. She cried out in pleasure as his mouth met her sensitive lips, already dripping and slick and engorged for him.

Will moaned against her as he lapped and sucked, sending a hot shock of arousal all the way from her core, across her skin, through her veins like electricity.

He was like a wild beast, untamed in a way she had never seen from him before and it unraveled her to see that mild mannered vicar become a ravenous lion between her legs. Violet gripped his hair tightly, giving into her own animal need. Purring, she commanded, “Look at me, Father, look upon the pleasure you give me..witness this.”

He obeyed, those large, bright eyes never leaving her as she writhed on his tongue, sliding over it as her hips bucked against his saintly face. Will reached up, shoving her from sitting so her back smacked against the mattress and he crawled up the bed with a feral glare. Then he pulled her even harder against himself, biting the inside of her thigh possessively, desperate to dive his tongue deeper inside of her, enveloped within her taste and aroma.

He reached up, grabbing hard at her bare breasts and squeezing greedily at her nipples, pulling and caressing as she shivered with each varied motion.

Her sounds, her wild abandon, the all encompassing sensation of her broke his long-standing patience.

Will stood and she watched as he took his hard cock from his trousers and began to stroke himself, squeezing a glimmering drop and trickle from the thick red tip as he worked up and down his thick shaft. He met her eyes with a feral hunger as he panted.

“Is this what you want, darling.”

“Please,” she whimpered, “please. I need you.”

“Then you shall have me. All of me,” Will pronounced, and then he was over her, his long body sliding against hers. His frenzy receded for a moment as his eyebrows peaked softly in concern. Holding her face to meet his, he asked, “Are you ready, Bella? Are you sure?”

“Yes...” she hissed, “Yes, I beg you. Take me now. Give me everything.”

“It's yours,” he said and kissed her deeply, holding her face as he pushed between her legs. He was patient, moving slowly and carefully. Listening for any sign of pain or discomfort, ready to soothe her. He needn't have worried. When he saw her face in transcendent pleasure sighing and arching her back to meet him, greedy for more of him, he moaned more like a whore than a pastor.

“More...more, please,” she whimpered, and he obliged, pressing harder until their hips met.

“You...ahhh. You feel...exquisite.” Will panted the words between her parted lips as he began to move and writhe inside of her, bucking and undulating, lost in her tight, wet, heat.

Her legs clenched around his narrow waist, gripping tightly, his large hands locked brutally onto the flesh of her hips. There would be bruises and it was a sweet pain, which elevated Violet's pleasure, coaxing more breathy awed words from her throat.

“I'm yours, my beautiful Padre,” she said so sweetly meeting his eyes and holding his face close to hers while rolling her hips up to meet him.

They both gasped in unison at the fuller feeling, the faster movement. “I can't...hold back...” Will grunted.

“Neither can I.”

“Let go,” he pleaded, “now...let go with me.”

They came together and fell apart, in a blinding ecstasy of shuddering and pulsing waves, heartbeats drumming hard against their skin. They stayed this way for a long while, cleaving together accompanied only by the slowing of their breath and the beating of their hearts.

“Ti amo, Violetta,” Will whispered into the darkness, long after the candle had gone out.

“I love you too, Will.”

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#lusty vicarettes #lusty vicar #essex serpent fanfic #the essex serpent fanfic #the essex serpent #will ransome fanfic #will ransome

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