#here i lay my apologies

[hoofpeet]

perpetually suffering the tortures lately

[andy-clutterbuck]

SDCC 2017

[solradguy]

Whenever I see someone being transphobic on twt in a bridget thread i reply with three pictures of my mains: ky kiske from ac+r, ky kiske from rev 2, and ky kiske from strive.

it self selects for people who actually play the game. it’s canon that he’ll fight off transphobes with the blade. and if they actually played guilty gear they’d get the underlining messages

While it can be really funny to bully these guys back, please keep in mind that nothing you can say or do to these people will hurt them or waste as much of their time as what they say will stick with you or waste your time. It might be funny to send them a bunch of Ky pictures, but what they're doing is laughing that the only response the people they hate can give them is sending a bunch of pictures of anime boys.

The only thing that works is blocking them. They've turned being an asshole into a recreational sport and getting any sort of response in return is a victory for them.

[florallylly]

sometimes the happy ending is that they don't end up together

[allylikethecat]

Formal apology that I don’t think I’m going to have yesterday’s chapter that I said I would have up today done 😭 I am unfortunately still struggling (or restarted the struggle when I rode and then like helped moved all of the jumps in the arena) and looking at screens while my head is pounding is alas not very fun and I am so, so sorry but so very grateful for the patience and continued support 🩵

[babyforestnymph]

some one do me a favor and just come knock me the fuck out please

[skydigiblogs]

back on my bullshit (thinking about translation theory in the context of my silly little monster cartoons <3)

(this ended up so so fucking long so i put it under a read more lmao)

specifically thinking about it in the context of like a handful of world/postcolonial lit courses we took and some anth courses

what i mean by that is like

when it comes to just literature there are already so many things that have to be taken into account for translation! let's say you're taking a poem. in its native language, that poem has a sound, a rhythm, a way of communicating that a lot of poetry in a lot of languages do. when you translate it to another language, like english, are you going to translate in a way that preserves the meaning most, or a way that attempts to approximate the meaning while preserving the synesthetic qualities of its sounds?

the homeric epics are a really fun example for comparative translation analysis imo. and i mean fun because there are so many translations of them into english, and at least one madlad decided to make a prose translation of an epic poem. only recently did the first translation of the poem by a woman get published, and that revealed that a lot of biases in the linguistic nuance were kind of getting smoothed over like a crease in clay.

(i have a copy of emily wilson's translation but am not the guy who reads classics in our system, i just write the essays lmao. but she wrote multiple times about the theory of translation she was working with and if you're at all interested in this topic, look her up.)

but even if you aren't translating a text from antiquity and are, say, working with a more contemporary example of literary translation, you still have to bridge the gap between two cultures that may be very different. just a word for word translation may not work too, because figurative language like idioms might not be understood by the language you're translating to.

the amount of cultural knowledge required to sculpt a truly effective translation that preserves the image of the original while making it comprehensible to an otherwise ignorant audience is just. so cool to me. i say this as someone who could never really do translation work myself, on account of not having that kind of complex grasp on another language than my native one, of course, but you don't have to be fluently billingual to understand what i'm talking about here, imo.

another example, and one that i actually wrote comparative analysis on, is work from charles baudelaire's les fleurs du mal ("the flowers of evil"). works of short poetry are effective case studies in what different translations can look like, because translations of baudelaire's poetry still portray the subject matter in a way that is presumably true to the original french. while something may always be lost in translation (there's a saying for a reason there), the philosophy behind one's translation can also highlight one's own reading of a text, and offer a closer insight into said text for foreign audiences (me, it's me, i'm the foreign audience reading charles baudelaire in world lit and going absolutely insane about translation theory).

for my mileage, you end up seeing a paradigm between translations that span between "strict" and "loose," if that makes any sense. a strict translation makes no changes in its translation, preserving the literature in its entirety as it is translated, to the best approximation possible where a direct translation is impossible. a loose translation meanwhile may make more artistic choices in its translation, foregoing certain details in order to better articulate the artistry in the original work.

okay, now, the reason i'm thinking about this today, right now.

in literature this is already a complex subject, but when you get into other forms of art, like animation in the case of this blogs primary topic, there become a lot more moving parts. like with literature, there's going to be the simple fact of looking into a cultural window and trying to communicate that snapshot to foreigners.

with subtitling, you can add things like translator's notes. this is a non-diegetic method of communicating information to your audience, and you can see it present in literature as well (footnotes or endnotes are a frequent addition to many translated works; hell, they're common even in non-translated works). in animated works where there are vocal tracks (like anime openings or insert songs), you can also have subtitles for those, no problem!

however, when it comes to dubbing, you automatically include more elements to juggle in your translation work. you have to take into account individual voice, background tracks, visuals, etc. etc.. the method most dubs handle translating the work often discourages non-diegetic methods of communicating information, so you're less likely to see translator's notes in dub work. sometimes this even includes changing on-screen text so that a foreign audience can read it.

the lengths to which a dubbing company is willing to censor in translation is also, obviously, a conversation worth noting (see again my losing my shit at pinnochimon packing heat). a phenomenon i'm sure we've all noticed when it comes to dubbing (as opposed to most translations of literature i've seen) is that dubs may market to a specific age range in translation. sometimes that may end up defanging a work's themes, or changing them entirely. the censorship of a dub may come out of a cultural difference or hesitance to show certain subjects to a younger audience, but regardless it is part of the theory behind some dub work.

i don't really have a conclusion to this, but it's just in my mind a lot while i'm watching some of these series for the first time subbed. by all means, i don't think dubbing is a bad thing (if anything it's complex), but having the experience of watching the sub is allowing me to do a type of comparative analysis i don't think i've ever had the chance to actively do.

i know that there are folks who have done more thorough comparative analysis work than i'll probably end up doing, of course (there are so many wonderful blogs here on tumblr alone about that meta-analysis). it's just that i'm enjoying engaging with a childhood interest in a way that i suppose i didn't know i wanted to do so badly.

[appalachianapologies]

I don't want whatever the threat is. I dont eanna live in fear

Your ocs. Hand em over

OKAY i know it has been. weeks. months, even. however, I considered how I wanted to say this because too many characters too little time. but here we go:

A Penchant for the Ordinary

Jamie Caldwell is everyone's favorite character and by that I mean she's chaotic as hell, makes knee jerk reactions, definitely unknowingly has ADHD, extremely low self control, and her stress relief is punching people who (probably) deserve it. She's a gay mess in every sense of the word and has seriously tried so hard to get her life together and it's just. it's not working out for her. so, after accepting that fact, Jamie begins to embrace the chaotic and darker sides of herself. if her life is going to hell, she may as well take a free trip down as well and see what it's all about

Chloe and Gus together, because they're so codependent we quite literally never see them apart except for a single scene near the end where Gus hangs around to say one last thing before following her. As mentioned: codependent as hell. Not romantically involved but they know every single in and out of each other- moreso than most couples. While Jamie feels regret for her sudden reactions, Chloe basks in them and has never once wished she made a different decision. Gus typically has the braincell, but usually not for long- he's as much of an adrenaline junkie as everyone else.

Madison did not sign up for any of this shit. When my dad read my book, one of the things he told me was that it was so not necessary to put her through everything that I did. And although I agree, it was sadly necessary for Jamie's questionable character arc. Sorry Madison- but trust me, you're better off with a different girlfriend

Kat absolutely signed up for everything she gets herself into, even if she claims that she didn't. She goes around saying "I'm not involved with any of these people :|" and then actively hangs out with them and invites them to her apartment. for multiple days. She's the type of person that would claim to want to have a relaxing life but she literally chose not to. girl what

Davy tried his best. kind of. he could've done a hell of a lot better, but he also genuinely tried to do well to fix his mistakes. He's the type of person who will feel genuine regret for what he's done and try to rectify his mistakes, even if it takes uhhhhh a lot of time :)

Evelyn is a bastard. absolutely mad woman and in not a fun sexy hot way. Power hungry, unfazed by hurting anyone else in the process of getting what she wants, and yet she still sees herself as benevolent (she's not). Believes she's the main character of the book (she is not).

James did not deserve any of that. I'm sorry dude. That being said, your coping mechanisms were a little subpar. Sorry we still don't know exactly how you died (it's not a spoiler okay it's happened like ten years ago).

Daniel and Edward are absolutely in love but neither of them realize it and it's not a standard love. think qpr. think: they've known each other since elementary school and have gone through all of life together. loyal to a fault but would change on a hat to keep the other safe.

Obligatory Did these characters interest you? Do you want to read a subpar book but support a young author? You can buy A Penchant for the Ordinary here! Thank you in advanced for your support :D

and now: Paradigm

Delilah's trying her best except she makes about a few wrong turns, which ends up shaping her life for the next decade. Surprisingly little self esteem for a person in her job market, though she acts the opposite. She doesn't have enough of a filter but manages to charm her way past a lot of things that should've ended badly. The queen at pushing things down and pretending it never happened. Is aware that she's pretty much trapped, but doesn't believe she can get out.

Charlotte is still Delilah, but she's determined to change into someone else. A new woman who's better, stronger, more confident than Delilah. She becomes the femme fetal that Marcus had wanted since day one, and embraces it. She likes being the bad guy, relishes the feeling of knowing she's in the wrong, and pretends that she doesn't have a nagging feeling that she is, in fact, in the wrong.

Taylor is still Delilah, and parts of Charlotte bleed through to her as well. A changed woman. Mature, who believes that she's seen so much of life that she's immune to anything else that could be thrown at her. Truly believes that she can't change and was created to be bad. Acts like she couldn't give a damn about other people when in fact the opposite is true and she's just afraid of having weaknesses. Aren't we all.

Marcus is pretty much the worst person you can imagine. Runs a cool home business called "assassins for hire :)" (paraphrased). Although he used to do the dirty work himself, he now has employees that he keeps on a tight leash to do everything. Always has multiple contingency plans in case something goes wrong and the authorities get wind of him. If any employee screws up, Marcus gives them zero chances to fix it, and will round up everyone who fucked up last quarter, shoot them, and give them a shallow grave in the Nevada desert. Has an insanely creepy infatuation with Delilah.

Sid is quite possibly the only employee of Marcus that is somewhat on the genuinely good spectrum. ...or at least the "not actively trying to do bad" one. Ex-military, classic "never really left [insert place of war]." Hates Delilah until he begrudgingly doesn't hate Delilah. He knows that everything Marcus is doing is screwed up, but Sid's just going through the motions of life at this point. What's one more life for one more paycheck?

Lainey's name is still pending, but it'll probably end up as Lainey. Smarter than anyone in the world gives her credit for, and is very calculating. She knows more than she lets on as well, and uses that to her advantage. She's probably more forgiving than she should be, but that makes Lainey who she is. Eventually, the only one who knows the most about Delilah (and that isn't just because she sleeps with her. oops)

Rebecca is the classic TV CIA agent except she's actually real. She has poorly controlled OCD but pretends like she has everything under control at all times. After spending over half of a decade attempting to track and take in Marcus, she's eventually promoted to a higher up position, where she gets to create her own team, to finally, once and for all, bring in Marcus. Is pretty much willing to sacrifice it all for the job with little hesitation.

Carter is somewhere between Rebecca's second hand man while also being the worst (affectionate) gay hopeless romantic there is. He thinks he can juggle a relationship and CIA work but let me tell you. He's never learned how to juggle. Keeps Rebecca sane in every way you can think of, and the two often spend nights at each others' places because that's just what they do. Like Rebecca, he's on thin fucking ice with every higher up in the CIA. However, unlike Rebecca, he's excellent at damage control with their supervisor.

Unnamed Classic Hacker Character is still unnamed because no name has truly suited or worked with her. Trusts literally no one, especially not Taylor. Hates her guts, actually. Probably the only one who's actually confident about things, though she knows the least at any given time because she's a junior agent. Rebecca immediately was like "I want her" despite the fact that she graduated worst in her class. Opinionated and full of spite, in the way that every person in a fandom would fucking hate. Absolutely, without a doubt, a character I would love to write an 11 book series spin-off with

finally: Lou is for Lavender

Lou, originally Louisa, is going through it. The book is a journey on her life- or rather, the three months after escaping somewhere between an abusive boyfriend and being trafficked. With little identity, she finds herself constantly trying to figure out who she is, who she should be, and if there even exists a woman beyond the girl she used to be. She's genuinely trying her best, but fuck if it isn't hard. I love her. I love her so much. She is so lost but she's trying so hard to find her way back on a path. I could write five more paragraphs about her at any given time.

Maria is a six year old with far too much energy for someone her size. Absolutely infatuated with her grandmother and the way she used to read to Maria every single day and night, Maria begged her grandmother and Dana to teach her how to read by herself, which quickly morphed into writing. She'll write pages of six year old nonsense for hours without getting bored, and is absolutely thrilled to have a new friend around the house! never mind that she's an adult- Maria sees Lou as a built-in summer friend.

Dana has been putting on the best face for nearly five years. Although it wasn't her intention, after her mom got sick, she moved back to her family's ranch along with her three kids- Maria and two older boys. After her mom passed, she stayed, unable to bear the idea of leaving once more for good, but she's great at hiding that fact. The youngest of seven, Dana is caught somewhere between constantly feeling the need to prove herself while also knowing that no one's waiting and watching for her to grow anymore. Six kids came before her, and Dana genuinely believes that she simply slipped under the attention of everyone.

The Flowers are how Lou refers to the other women she met along the way. The girls who all had an intimate understanding of what she was going through, and yet nothing at all. The flowers are constantly living inside of Lou, always on the edges of her thoughts, nearly controlling her at some points. They stay with Lou, sometimes causing guilt, sometimes causing pain, sometimes just to remind Lou of the dandelions that used to sprout up in between cracks in the sidewalk.

The Journal that Maria gives Lou (after declaring them best friends forever), isn't technically a living character, but it may as well be. It's where Lou's thoughts reside. Where her fears and regrets and memories live so they don't have to live in her head. The journal is an extension of Lou, and the scariest thing she could think of is losing it, but the journal was never meant to stay against her chest for the rest of its life.

Anyhow, if you'd like to support some of my original work, I have a Ko-Fi! Covers are expensive as h e c k - But also, reblogs support me as well :D a chaotic way to spread the chaotic characters 'round these parts

[lanternlightss]

honestly i really like how i did the designs for mimi’s world….. also put nb in their world once for fun XD

(this mimi is a little old 😔)

[hoshiszora-archived]

Last ooc post of the night. I've been seeing this a bit lately and IDK if it's just tumblr doing the unfollow bug/glitch, but if anybody is no longer interested in interacting or whatever the reason may be, please for the love of god just softblock me that way we have some kind of mutual understanding of not wanting to interact anymore or whatever the reason may be. I am also a mutuals only blog, so I will only send things and interact with those who are mutuals with me, and if I find that people have only unfollowed me and I didn't know cuz sometimes I don't check who's still following me and who I am mutuals with, and I end up sending something or liking your posts, I start to feel kinda bad cuz I am a mutuals only blog and I also know some people don't want non-mutuals sending them stuff or liking their posts.

If we are non-mutuals and you wish to contact me about whatsoever though, my dms are always available.

TL;DR

If y'all plan to unfollow me, just softblock me and call it good :|

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[dazedragons]

.

[rose-tinted-nostalgia]

.

[tonycries]

Little Heaven

Synopsis. He’s just your friend-with-benefits, right? So why - in the still haze of the soft sheets and you, fúcking you so sensual and tenderly - does he feel like he’s found his own personal heaven?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, kinda fluffy, he’s both pússydrunk and in love, slow to rough, marking, mentions of marriage and kids, morning, swearing.

Word count. 1.3k

A/N. Probably the fluffiest smút I’ve ever written.

You were just his friend-with-benefits, right? No strings attached, right? 

So why was he here? Sinking into your plush mattress, quiet morning sun just barely peeking in through the curtains as he wraps his arms around your naked figure. 

God, he really shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be laying you on your side, drinking in your soft little, “G’mornin’.” Both of your movements languid and still burning with soreness. Your hips pushing back desperately into his as he positions himself so that his leaking tip was just kissing your swollen folds. 

He shouldn’t be whispering soft kisses into the marks that littered your skin. Licking one, long stripe up the sinful trail of hickies down your neck. All sensual touches where it was bruising grips last night. 

That was rule #1, right? No marks. 

Or was it #4… 

Ah, right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck. Not when his greedy eyes wander the expanse of your face, fingers trailing along the features he’s mapped a thousand times over. Tracing delicate patterns across your skin, snaking down, down, down to leisurely lift your leg a little higher. 

Bare chest warm against your back, his voice is low and gravelly in your ear as he whispers, “I had a dream y’know.” 

Mind still thinly veiled with sleep, you lean into his warm touch, “Mhm?” 

Your breath hitches at the way he drags his swollen head teasingly across your slit, pooling your slick on his achingly hard tip. Smearing your juices with his thumb as he pumps himself lazily. It’s so torturously good. You almost miss the way he buries his face into the crook of your neck, murmuring a soft “Had a dream of us.”

Oh? 

Before you can overthink his words, he’s nudging in gently. So agonizingly gentle. And you can do nothing more than let out barely-audible whispers of his name as he bullies his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. 

You feel so full. So drunk off of the delicious burn of your pussy and him. 

And it seems he was drunk on you just as much, because as soon as his hips are flush against yours, the words escape him. So quiet and groggy with sleep, that you almost don’t catch them.

“Had a dream that I made you my beautiful bride.”

Oh. 

That was new. His words hung heavy in the heady air. 

Shivers run down your spine - all the way to where he was buried in your dripping cunt. Your voice is slightly shaky as you let out a humorless laugh, “Oh yeah? Must’ve been a nightmare then.”

Soft lips press against your forehead, breathing in your scent. Absolutely searing as he mutters out a muffled, “No, was the best dream I ever had.”

And then, with the audacity of someone who didn’t just send your mind reeling, he pulls his hips back unhurriedly. Immediately fucking into you at a slow, sensual pace. Tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips languidly into yours, making sure you feel every bump and graze against your tight walls.

You don’t know what’s more maddening - his agonizing pace or the words that tumble out of his lips. “Y’looked so beautiful in white. So pretty walking down the aisle to me.” 

His lips brush against yours, hands dancing across every inch of you he could reach. Gently caressing the skin like it’s something divine, soothing over the marks from last night as if an apology. “Don’ think I’d want to see anyone else there.”

You glance back at him - only to find his eyes already on you. A jolt of electricity runs across your skin at the pure warmth in them. And you realize that, no, this wasn’t a joke. 

Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply grind your hips down to meet his, abs rubbing against your ass. Letting out a broken whimper of what sounds like his name as he moves down a hand to press rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit. 

“Saw a little something else too.” he hums, a sly smile curling his lips as his other hand dances across your body to press down on your stomach. Hard. “Saw that I had some competition - two actually. Funny, right?”

“Hah- h-hilarious.” you manage to choke out as his thumb speeds up on your clit, hips moving a bit more purposefully. A bit more like you were used to. Rock-hard cock plunging into your quivering cunt in deliberate, sloppy thrusts that have you white-knuckling the sheets. 

“Though…” he trails off dangerously, pulling back all the way until his furiously hard tip was just kissing your waiting hole. “I wouldn’t really mind.”

And with that he’s sheathing his throbbing erection in your wet pussy completely. A gasp of delight leaves him at the way you take him so readily. Walls sucking him up so sinfully - perfect. You were always so perfect for him. 

“Dreamt we had a lil’ house with a big garden.” God, he can feel his cock harden so painfully at the fucked-out little ah! ah! ah! leaving your pretty lips each time his hip smack into yours. It’s music to his ears, such a shame he just can’t shut the fuck up right now. “And then you dressed the kids up while I made breakfast.”

“Then you made us do taxes and I didn’t even fucking mind.” His voice is strained now, words slurring together as he rams his cock deeper and deeper, glistening with your slick in the soft morning glow. 

“And finally at night, I say we should make a third one.” 

He looks at you, a sly grin stretching his lips, eyes half-lidded and a dangerous twinkle in them that has you wondering whether everything he said before was merely a ruse to fuck you silly. And it probably shows on your face - because he grins lowly in your ear, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we have till our wedding night f’me to fuck you slow.”

And oh he almost feels guilty. But he can’t bring himself to slow down at the way your swollen lips drop into such a pretty oh! at his words. Mewling at the sting of his heavy balls as they smack your ass. Walls clamping down desperately on his dick, milking him for every drop of pleasure. Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy as he focuses on making you lose your mind. 

He shifts his angle slightly, grinding expertly against your g-spot just right, and you throw your head back, releasing a low moan of his name.

“Shit. Yeah, say m’name, sweetheart. Jus’ like that.” he moans breathlessly. 

His name - soon to be yours.

Maybe.

You turn your head to face him, eyes fiery as you capture his in an equally scorching kiss. Cock slamming into your poor, abused cunt with an intensity that matches that of your lips.

Probably. 

Biting down on his lower lips, soft yet insistent. Humming deliriously against his mouth - and in the heat of it all, he feels you smile against his lips. Ever-so-slightly. 

Definitely. 

And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure behind your eyes, walls clamping down so deliciously around his twitching cock. It sends him over the edge as well - whispering your name as if a prayer, voice hoarse with emotions neither of you could name at this very moment. 

Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your trembling cunt white, milking the soul out of him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forming around his base as some truly animalistic part of himself fucks his seed into you - a promise, he likes to think.

“I’m serious about the dream.”

Almost as gentle as that one. 

As the haze settles, his thrusts slowing down to just shallow grinds, a fragile silence envelopes the room as neither of you speak. Because maybe no other words were needed. 

And right now, morning sunlight harsh on his skin, strong arms pulling you warm body flush against his, no one but you two in this quiet world - he doesn’t think he’d like to be anywhere else.

All is well in your little heaven.

- GOJO, GETO, Choso, SUNA, ATSUMU, Tsukishima, Kuroo, EREN

A/N. Bro it took longer to think of what to write than to write this. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[sexbot300]

18+, minors dni! (being a slut for nanami bc honestly who isn’t)

authors note: hello! this is my first-ever post, i hope you guys enjoy it! (I literally have no idea how layouts work yet, bear with me)

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sugardaddy!nanami who scolds you whenever you feel as if you’re “doing too much,” with all the lavish gifts he gives you. nothing is too much for his angel.

sugardaddy!nanami that asks which jewelry set you like best. emerald or ruby? ah. how about both?

sugardaddy!nanami who you thought would be a joyless, serious man as people portray him. they’re not lying, he really is serious, to people that aren’t you. you’ll witness a soft side of him that only shows the most gentle of smiles.

sugardaddy!nanami who gladly scoops you up bridal style in his arms, walking while you burry your head into his chest.

sugardaddy!nanami who unpacks the gifts he gets you on the countertop after a business trip. “kento, baby, you shouldn’t have.” you play with the polyester ribbon while he simply leans back on the fridge opening up a beverage. “I couldn’t help but have the prettiest woman in the world waiting for me at home. it would be embarrassing of me to show up empty-handed.”

sugardaddy!nanami who for the first few times that you went out with him, meticulously kept track of the things you called “cute” and noted wherever your eyes wandered for a minute too long. the next morning you woke up with everything you ogled your eyes at decorating your room. attached is a note that read, “please forgive me, sweetheart, I didn’t know which you liked best. p.s. my sincerest apologies again, I let my own thoughts get carried away. be good for me and wear this tonight.” your fingers gingerly held onto the note, until your eyes fell on two things you don’t remember looking at when you went out shopping. a beautiful silk gown and an expensive lingerie set.

sugardaddy!nanami who will gladly kneel to strap your heel, placing a kiss on your ankle, after trailing his hand up and down your shin.

sugardaddy!nanami who sends you a monthly allowance for your hair, nails, skincare, and whatever you desire.

sugardaddy!nanami who thinks indulging in materialistic things is futile, but he wants to see you decorated in every fine piece of fabric, clothing, and accessories.

sugardaddy!nanami who acts as if he’s unbothered by you curling up on his lap while he types away on his work computer. you couldn’t even tell how much he adores every second of this as he idly types away. he loves to have you pushed up on him all the time, the minute you slightly move? a strong hand is placed on your thigh or waist to prevent you from leaving.

sugardaddy!nanami who’s only condition is to continue this dynamic until you’re unhappy or want nothing to do with it. (you literally want to marry this man but okay).

sugardaddy!nanami who has a saturday night ritual with you where you buy the most extravagant of desserts and feed it to each other. oh yeah, you have to be sitting on his lap the entire time while you both feed each other from the same fork.

sugardaddy!nanami who places his nose on the nape of your neck while you’re seated on him as he sharply breathes in your scent. “as much as I enjoy eating sweets with you,” he said in a whisper, “they could never mimic your taste.”

sugardaddy!nanami who started off paying your rent, bills, and utilities which he felt mentally, secretly disgruntled by. not because he’s paying (duh) or he has to take care of you, it’s just the fact you haven’t moved in with him yet.

sugardaddy!nanami who considers you under his care and deems your wellbeing as his responsibility. you’re hurt? point to where. your body is sore? lay back down while he massages you. you’re hungry? food is being sent over and here’s money for grocery shopping. you’re upset? he kneels down in front of you as he attentively listens to your sobs.

sugardaddy!nanami who supports your hobbies. he’ll drop off little things that he knows have to do with your interests and only says, “you like this don’t you?” you name drop pilates, cooking, art, knitting, whatever it is, he signs you up for the nearest classes.

sugardaddy!nanami who actually notices if you did something different with your hair, if you wore a new shade of lip gloss. little things.

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sugardaddy!nanami who places the most tender of kisses onto your forehead like he didn’t wreck your shit a second prior. “such a good girl… i’m so so proud. taking my cock in so well.”

sugardaddy!nanami that plays with your body in subtle ways. hands? his big, veiny fingers are stroking yours gently. thighs? constantly getting gripped. your waist? a strong arm wrapped around it. your cheek? a thumb stroking it. shoulders? relieving tension from it. collarbone? rearranging your necklace so it lays properly. guts? fucked out of place. makeup? smeared all across his luxurious bedsheets. lips? blown out from sucking his monster cock and making out.

sugardaddy!nanami who rents out an entire summer beach house with a glorious view of the ocean. partially because he likes the privacy of you two alone, surrounded by nature, and romantic sunset dinners. also because he wants to watch you ride him while he leans back on a beach chair without disturbing the public. (nobody is allowed to see what’s his).

sugardaddy!nanami who actually pounded you into another dimension, your mind still in a haze while he carries you to the running bath. “stay with me princess, i need to clean you up.”

sugardaddy!nanami who makes sure you finish several times before he does. oh poor baby, you’re out of breath? would you like some water? we’re not finished yet. poor nanami didn’t get to cum once, and you so badly want him to use your body to do so.

sugardaddy!nanami who buys you a personal collection of sex toys to play with when he’s not there. he personally studies the way your body twitches and convulses with certain toys, he needs to know how to please his princess. sometimes he chuckles to himself because he knows deep down, nothing– no one, can please you the way he does.

sugardaddy!nanami who sees you stressed or crying over school and work and quickly replaces those tears with ones of joy.

sugardaddy!nanami who will have you folded like a damn lawn chair and only whisper sweet nothings while drilling into you.

sugardaddy!nanami who has a high sex drive but hides it in the beginning like the gentleman he is, making sure you feel comfortable and safe.

sugardaddy!nanami who gives you the car you’ve been wanting forever. you ride the car for a bit with him ecstatic, kissing him over and over, giggling. you both quickly found a new way to celebrate. you’re pinned down over the glove compartment, one large hand gripping both of yours as they’re pinned to your back, and the sounds of skin slapping with your loud moans mix in the air. “ke-n-toooo~ I-I don’t want to ge- uh! It m-messy in h-ere…” “don’t worry darling, I-” a low grunt comes out, “i always cum inside dont I?” he quickens up the pace only to have you screaming like a whore. “t-that’s it. just take it. It feels good, I know,” he mercilessly pounds into you, kissing your temple, “just come undone on me, that’s it. make me proud.”

sugardaddy!nanami who texts you to quickly come to the office and sends you a cab for an urgent “visit.” why? he’s stressed and his favorite method to cool down is your throat expanding around his girthy dick. he'll grip the strands of your hair while cooing at you, "i know angel, i know. but you look so beautiful right now, don't stop."

sugardaddy!nanami who groans from the stressors of his job, turning his attention to you while he pushes himself back on his chair. he looks down on his bulge before sighing and tugging his tie down left and right. “go ahead. come suck me off, i need it and I know you want it too.”

sugardaddy!nanami who does the whole pillow underneath, hand pressed on lower abdomen, with a vibrator wand abusing your clit.

sugardaddy!nanami who has a diet that consists of devouring your pussy on a regular basis. “b-babe… i- ah! s-slow down,” as you elicit a loud dirty moan that fills the room, “pleaaaase.” if only you knew he takes more pleasure out of this than you and you’re the one gripping his hair to the point of leaving his scalp red. he further pushes his nose into you, mumbling, “beg all you want, I’m not done.”

sugardaddy!nanami who is a gentleman, really. who will kill anything within 5 meters if it remotely threatens you. but he can’t help but admire the way your little cunt can’t fully take it the first few times together.

sugardaddy!nanami who never thought much of daddy kinks, but when he hears “daddy” slip out of your precious mouth, his heels dig deeper into the mattress, his massive body weight shifts crushing you, angling his dick in an almost sinful way while pressing you deeper into a mating press. “say it again.”

sugardaddy!nanami who watches you squirm with a vibrator jammed to your clit and his tongue lapping up and down your cunt like any separation from his tongue and your pussy will cause his death. “k-kento s-stop this feeli- ah! I th- oh god! I think I need to pee!” he can’t help but chuckle in his head. his baby never squirted before until now.

sugardaddy!nanami who secretly wants to get you knocked up. man loves fucking his cum into you. he has such a big breeding kink that you catch on.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ When someone tries to imitate you or take your place 

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone 

(tw: general mentions of violence and intimacy, swf. Old ask suggested by the lovely @pandaquick, better late than never)

Your position in the Fatui is a much more personal and delicate matter. You are not just some high-rank advisor or soldier idling within the Zapolyarny Palace, nor can you be defined as another Fatuus. You are someone of a different echelon - a Harbinger’s beloved, safeguarded with the utmost honor conferred by Her Majesty the Tsaritsa. It is no secret your significant other would utilize a whole army to protect you, but what happens when someone, in their foolishness, forgets that?

✧ Pierro was the first to notice that someone tried to imitate you. An individual of high status endeavored to emulate your work and areas of expertise. Subsequently, this individual began to adopt aspects of your appearance, from hairstyle to clothing. However, the breaking point occurred when this foolish person attempted to purchase an identical jewelry brooch to the one you frequently wore. It was a similar piece, one gifted to you by Pierro.

Except that imitator missed one important clue - Pierro orders you custom-made silver adorned with deep-cut sapphires that would put the Tsaritsa’s crown into shame. A one of a kind piece.

This cheap attempt to imitate you and usurp your spot was what forced The Jester to abandon his silent observation. His gaze has long caught the envious glances directed towards you whenever you accompanied him on meetings, whenever he linked his arm with yours, whenever he generously kneeled beside you to put his coat over your shoulder and keep you warm from Snezhnaya’s cold - the same individual, always seething with resentment. Thus, it was time for the Director to silently act. 

He kept tabs on this person via a network of spies, gathering intel on their behavior and intentions. And with the most skilled spies raised from the House of the Hearth, it didn't take long to have a whole pile of evidence right on his desk. And with the simple snap of his fingers, he effortlessly orchestrated the apprehension and subsequent banishment of the culprit, sparing no unnecessary words. Hearsay will not be tolerated in the Fatui, but to see some lowly scum tarnish your reputation by cheap mimicry then it’ll be his responsibility to weed out. 

“Pierro, dearest, What's wrong? You seem so deep in thought.” - Your gentle murmur broke The Jester's train of thought. As he lay in bed, your head resting on his chest and his arm draped over you, he reminded himself that he was in the comfort of your love. He doesn't have to mull over the bloodied ordinances when he feels the warmth of your skin underneath the covers.

“Apologize, my divine. It seems my mind was drifting to troubling thoughts. But it no longer matters when you're here.” - Thus, he gently planted a kiss on your forehead and tucked the covers around your body which harbored marks of his devotion earlier that night.

✧ Il Capitano clutched the hilt of his sword in resolution. Something was wrong and he could see it. The Harbinger was in the middle of his morning spar with you, a regular training session where you and the Captain warm up as a routine. He stood in a defensive stance, his movements fluid yet measured as his sword received blow after blow from your weapon. You, on the other hand, moved like a silent tempest, your strikes precise yet frustratingly urgent.

It was unlike you to be so unsteady, noted Capitano to himself, especially when fighting. Despite the unspoken patience, an undercurrent of concealed despondency and anger laced your body language. 

“Alright, my dear, I can feel your unease. What troubles your heart?” 

You shook your head, panting as you almost faltered. You insisted on continuing the training session, but it was clear your brave facade was almost crumbling. 

“It would be foolish to continue. And I care about your well-being. Please, confide in me, my beloved.”

You tried, you really did. But before you know it, your lips pursed into a thin line and a flood of tears escaped the moment you shakily lowered your weapon. Now the Captain was on full alert, rushing towards you and gently supporting you before you could hide your tearful face in shame. With an arm around your trembling form and much persuasion - you relented and shared the source of your frustration. A newly enlisted soldier had undergone thorough training under the tutelage of Il Capitano, and their impressive advancement was unmistakably evident in their unwavering dedication. However, this individual began to devote more time to the Captain, delving into military intelligence and climbing the ranks. You genuinely felt joy for the new recruit, truly. Yet in timid humiliation, you had to confess you felt obsolete as if your power alone wasn’t enough for a harbinger of his caliber and ranks.

“Ah, my dear, you are far from weak. My time with the trainees is merely a duty, a part of my job as the 1st Harbinger. But when it comes to you, my dear, your might and wisdom are incomparable. You don’t deserve my ranks, you deserve my life laid before you.”

But whatever gentle words of affection were coming out of the Captain, your next words of truth made him halt at once. “... At least, that’s what the recruit told me when we spoke. That I'm weak.” 

“...What did you say?” 

The gentle armored hand on your shoulder now tightened in restrained anger, fury flaring within his chest. Capitano now understood: your tears, your sudden insecurity, your doubt, your silence… It wasn’t coincidental. This recruit who was so conveniently rising in the ranks made sure to aim not just for the Harbinger. Specifically, you; to sow self-doubt onto you and hinder your precious relationship. Someone was deliberately bullying you.

You looked up at Capitano’s dreadful silence, asking him what was wrong.

“It… seems, my dear, someone has crossed an unforgivable line. One that would cost them their life dearly. And I am to blame for not noticing when harm and doubt came your way. I must amend this transgression for your forgiveness.”

You blinked in response, not having time to comprehend the severity of his words; It’s hard to respond when your beloved suddenly kneels and bows like a knight on duty. In the end, Capitano ushered you to take a day off and let your mind rest easy.

The next day, Capitano returned home early but was eerily silent once more. He stayed with you the whole day, like a hawk overlooking his nest, his arms crossed but his touch gentle. Although he claimed nothing was wrong, you received news that certain recruits were gone, and any upcoming soldiers that would come into his care would receive even stricter training from now on. That day, you wondered why some Fatui soldiers feared talking to you. Not to mention the armor around Capitano’s knuckles seemed faintly red-tinted.

The Fatui organization was a constant battle of powers and ranks. But to climb the ladder and meddle with the life of The Captain was a personal offense, one that would result in quick and unapologetic bloodshed. Nevertheless, he made sure to remind his soldiers about that. 

✧ When one of the folks working under Il Dottore as a lab analyst approached you, you didn’t expect them to call you names so suddenly. You stood there, confused and apprehensive at the sudden barrage of insults from the stranger. But they explained:

“You don’t do anything when helping during research, you know! I don’t even know how The 2nd tolerates you when you’re this useless. I’ll tell you what, quit your special-treatment act, and don’t come back to the lab. The Doctor is better off with someone of his level of intellect.”

You didn’t fight or defend yourself, you didn’t even insult the assistant. Instead, you smiled simply  - “Very well, I won’t. Good luck.”

That day, you turned and left. The frustrated lab analyst was left in confusion but thought they succeeded in eliminating the only obstacle left to get closer to the elusive yet powerful Harbinger. After all, what the hell do you even do at his lab? You exchange a few words with Dottore, maybe sporadically point at what to do, and remain seated in the back, resting as if you were the Tsaritsa herself. The audacity. How come Il Dottore never kicked you out?

Well, it didn't take long for this person to find out.

The next day, naturally, Dottore couldn’t find you when he proceeded with work. You were neither at his study, nor at the lab, nor at your favorite corner of the library. It was barely noon, and receiving your warm greetings was his routine. And the Doctor always follows the agenda.

“Where are they?” 

His question was brief but pointed, and his subordinates knew exactly who he was referring to. They could sense the tension in his voice. The only individual privy to the reason for your absence smirked smugly and responded.

“Hmph. It seems they decided not to come, Lord Harbinger Dottore.”

That was their first mistake because The Doctor caught on to the haughty smirk coming from his new analyst.

“And you know so certainly how?” - he quickly gestured to a nearby Fatui servant with a flick of his wrist. “Send in servants to check in on my behalf. I wasn’t informed. If my darling is feeling tired or unwell, bring their preferred refreshment immediately, and ensure it is warm.”

However, this displeased the new lab assistant, as even while you were away, Dottore was still dotting on you as if it was his second nature to do so while he was busy with work. Thus, they cleared their throat and spoke up:

“They… barely accomplished anything in your presence, doctor. So I advised them to leave, to which they agreed. Pretty straightforward, s-sir.” 

“Oh? Did you, now” - A burning rage, like never before, flared up within Il Dottore. With clenched teeth and a rigid jaw, his voice oozed with venom. But any seasoned lackey working under Dottore knew that this was the calm before the storm. Because soon, an echo of shattering vials and slammed objects would ring out from the laboratory. And in your absence, nothing would prevent the doctor from showing a bit of despotism. 

Much later that evening, after everything was set and done, the servants informed him of your whereabouts. Il Dottore briskly made his way through the Zapolyarny Palace to find you. Spotting you tucked away in a secluded nook of the palace, he hastened over, anxious to ensure your well-being, fearing you might’ve withdrawn due to the influence of some blabbering lowlife. 

“Dear! There you are… No one has the right to speak to you like that ever. Are you alright? My dearest, why did you not tell me immediately?! I would’ve-”

Dottore’s frustrated rambles come to a halt when you place a finger on his lips to shush him. You didn’t look despaired, in fact, you looked calm - “Zandik? Did you have another tantrum in your lab while I was absent?”

The doctor gulped, remembering his place. Calming his senses, he placed his hands on your waist and ushered you closer to his arms.

“... Perhaps. But I had to. How could I be certain that no one had harmed you? Why did you comply with that impudent fool? You should’ve gone to me first.”

“Well, it was unpleasant to hear the insults, sure. But…" - you glanced apologetically and a knowing smile returned to your lips. "I knew you'd find out and deal with the issue very quickly." 

✧ You and Pantalone were an odd couple. You didn't hail from a rich background, nor were you well-versed in the art of business and finance. You were more proficient in adventuring, your travels taking you to all sorts of journeys and commissions, a polar opposite from your beloved Pantalone. This led to raised eyebrows among the aristocrats of Snezhnaya. How can the richest man of Teyvat, who lives and works in prestige, be associated with such a simple person as you? For some, this gave the impression that they had a better chance of winning him over.

Thus, once upon a night, Pantalone was invited to a luxurious soirée. Here he was, clad in his finest suit, silver rings complementing his equally expensive optics. But to the Regrator, the jewelry adorning him was the least of his concerns - because you were the most precious gem in this gala. You accompanied him, although reluctantly, feeling out of place amidst the grand assembly of extravagant guests and the languid orchestra.

“Pantalone, do we have to…? I know you said this is not a business party, but there are so many guests already lining up to talk to you.” 

“Oh do not fret, my sweet. Evening galas like these are where the real negotiation and connections entail. But I know the details bore you, so I promise we won't stick here for too long. Besides, I get to introduce you as my one and only!”

That's exactly what you were afraid of. As a company of some esteemed noble ladies adorning elegant gowns, you had difficulties matching Pantalone’s polite smile. Overwhelmed by the scrutinizing gazes of some guests, you politely excused yourself to the bathroom. Pantalone was concerned, thinking of following you, but that was exactly what the guests wanted. 

You spent a long while by the hallway alone, trying to stabilize your breathing. The muttering of guests enjoying drinks and strolling was faint, but you could hear some people nearby:

“How can the 9th be with someone like them…? Surely it’s a joke.”

“A charming, rich man like him, and he can have anyone he desires. Yet he wastes his time on a simpleton?”

“Someone was definitely in it for the Mora, maybe he hasn’t seen real class. Quick, let’s go talk to him while he is alone.”

You stood with your back to a wall, and for the first time, uncertainty crept in. With fists clenched by your side, you reprimanded yourself that you are not alone. You came here with your significant other - and he, above all else, knows that gossip has no place in your shared private life. Hence, gathering up your courage, you raise your head high and strode back into the gala.

Pantalone, unfortunately yet expectedly, was surrounded by the same foul-mouthed nobles who wished to impress him. They prattled on about his financial success, while ladies fanned their folding fans and stood too close for his comfort. While they humored him, The Regrator cast hurried glances around the gala in search of you. Where are you?

“Lord Harbinger, may we offer you more champagne? I am sure this expensive bottle is up to your taste.”

The 9th attempted to hide his frown at the woman's tone, his stomach unwilling to ingest any drink some excessively elaborate name. “No thank you, I’d rather decline. I am waiting for my dear. I promised her a dance later this evening.”

“Oh, please sir, I insist. The night is young and there is plenty more for-” 

Before the woman could continue, your voice cut through the air; calm, yet unmistakably firm. “He said no. Simple enough to understand.”  

A hush fell over the gathered guests, the weight of your words settling like a sudden gust. Only Pantalone beamed with a genuine smile. “Ah, dear! There you are,”. The Harbinger was about to step back towards you, when the same lady suddenly blocked his path, her back facing him while her tone edged with defiance.

“I beg your pardon, but I’m afraid the question is directed towards Lord Harbinger Pantalone. I am sure you wouldn't know the pleasure of tasting a 500,000 Mora champagne from Fontaine.”

You recognized the snark in her tone directed towards you, and you couldn’t deny the anxiety twisting in your gut as eyes narrowed in your direction. However, with a shake of your head, you reminded yourself who you truly are and simply said: “Sheesh, lady, you spend that much on a drink that tastes worse than sparkling water? To each their own, I presume”

Her smile vanished. The guests stared in stunned silence, but it was Pantalone’s genuine laughter that pierced the tension. The sound was rich and real—because only he knew how adept you were at humbling an overconfident aristocrat with a dose of blunt truth. That’s how Pantalone managed to push through the crowd and circle his arm back around your waist, leaving the astonished onlookers behind.

“Ah dear, you’re a savior. I apologize I dragged us into this unpleasant company…” - he confined to you apologetically as you two walked away. “You always knew how to be sincere in your honest way.”

“It’s not like I meant to pick up a fight…" - you sighed. "I simply couldn't bear the humiliation, Pantalone. I'm aware that some people give me strange looks when I'm with you. They regard me as if I'm some peasant standing next to a powerful Fatui harbinger. That I'm nothing. That's why I couldn’t just hide, I had to step up to defend myself.”

“Oh, darling… My sweet, precious darling.” - The two of you left the manor that hosted the soiree, the chill night breeze muting the faint sound of guests and replacing it with a symphony of cricket noise from the garden nearby. Pantalone's fingers intertwined with yours.

"You are not just 'nothing' - you're my everything. You did not come from riches, and neither did I. You of all people know that. Would I really hold respect for some rich fool who didn't know an ounce of hardship when Mora was all they had since birth? No, dear, I wouldn't."

With a tender hand, he rested his palm on your waist, gently guiding you along the cobblestone path as if leading you into a slow waltz by garden roses in the night.

"Besides, you should never be ashamed to seek out my help. Although I must admit... Your tone earlier - oh my. Use it on me more often, darling. I wouldn't mind."