#hes not a crybaby and he's not feminine

[ax3faire]

I'm thinking about fanon Tim traits and why people write them so often - obviously a lot of the traits are found in first which then informs other fics, and I think people generally read them more than comics so a lot of people get used to them and piggyback off them. Otherwise though, is it just that there's room in a lot of dynamics, both romantic and family wise for someone smaller, more delicate? Is there any single instance in canon that has started off any of these misinterpretations? Like, there are so many fun premises out there for first but Tim is just written so wrong and I'm just wondering where it's all come from.

Also, what are some of your most hated fanon Tim traits and misconceptions?

[redcherrykook]

ִֶָ── ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐ Kinktober D19- dacryphilia (crying kink)

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content: oc is a crybaby, missionary (legs up, bend back), he licks her tears, gets off on it, multiple orgasms, daddy kink!!, size kink, "babygirl, sweets", creampie, lil clit play

note from cherry: live laugh love daddy jungkook. Sorry y'all, i'm just down bad

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Although sneaky, your attempts of driving Jungkook crazy never go unnoticed. Older, taller, much bigger than you and you have every intention to make the upmost use of it. Your little hands on his big, broad back always send shivers down his spine,

the way you keep your fingers decorated with long pink gel nails just adds to that cute, pure nature of yours,

not to be confused with innocent, he´s seen through all your acts, such as wearing those adorable frilly dresses in public only to whisper to him that you´re wearing his favorite cream underwear beneath them

All for him to fall into your sweet little arms, to get him all riled up and do whatever those big, doll like eyes blink at him for,

those whiny cries flowing effortlessly from your exaggerated pout so he can kiss it better,

All those loud, uncontrollable whimpers when he kisses and laps at your cunt until you cry,

nothing makes him more aroused than those literal tears

"babygirl, you´re just so tiny aren´t you?" reaching down, his large, warm hand presses right on your lower belly, right where it bulges every time he thrusts his cock into you,

you watch his bicep flex, his big, round shoulders hovering just right over you sends a dart of pleasure through your figure, helplessly getting fucked into the bed and all you needed to do is let go- let him take care of all those needy wishes

with the applied pressure, your head presses deeper into the cotton pillow below you,

"you´re just- mhh.. so big"

"oh yeah? but you´re taking me so well" he chuckles deeply, uneven breaths threatening to spill out louder and louder with each added thrust, he knew that was a lie- even after 7 months of dating, he´s still stretching you out deliciously, afraid to split you open when sinking his fat tip back into you,

"daddy please!" lips already swollen from chewing on them so much, they part further with the plead for him, overwhelmed by how deep he keeps hitting- hips angled just enough for him to reach that very last spot within you, his brown eyes bounce between your bulged belly and those wide eyes- waiting, impatiently begging you to cry for him like you always do,

"what do you need sweets? want daddy to play with your little clit?" you nod frantically, digging your nails into the muscles on his back, jungkook groans into you neck, his thumb sliding down from your belly to your femininity, teasingly resting just above where you need him

"please daddy, please i wanna cum" whether out of pleasure or frustration, he sees those doll eyes becoming glossy, tears pooling just slightly in the corners of them,

he starts rubbing eager circles on your clit, determined to see those tears spill down your flushed pink face,

"yes! so good mhh!" you moan out again, his hips ram into your sweet spot repeatedly, pushing you just right to the edge,

"pussy so wet babygirl, fuck, come on sweets, come for me- come for daddy" he keeps encouraging you, keeps his gaze locked to your pretty, fucked out face until finally, finally you cum,

but he doesn´t stop,

"one more sweets, give daddy one more" his hands grabs at your small thighs, pushing them to your chest by wrapping around them almost entirely, you gasp- whimpering loudly for any breath of air you can take, the high hasn´t passed yet but still, the second one is already in reach,

"s´too much, too much" tears flow down your pink cheeks, spilling gradually down to your chin, pooling there with ease,

"yeah, cry for me, keep crying baby, feels so good doesn´t it?"

he hums, cursing under his own moans while trying to hold out for you, his cock throbs for release with each added tear but he needed to see you come again, to fully go undone below his touches,

sobbing, your eyes stay open, tears streaming down continiously,

"answer me babygirl, feels good getting your tiny cunt fucked by daddy?"

his entire body tenses when you start speaking, broken sobs echoing between words, "yes- nghm! f-feels so good daddy! mhh"

unable to hold back any longer, his torso pushes forward, face inches away from yours while he starts chasing his own orgasm, closely monitoring how you keep whining, sobbing and clenching around him,

your delicate frame practically disappears under his, soft skin coming in contact with his own, warm chest, his face comes closer, lips meeting your forehead, "good girl, the best girl" he says, noticing how you´ve stopped looking, stopped keeping your eyes on him- your head had fully gotten lost in the feeling of him inside of you,

Jungkook sticks his tongue out, running it flat down your cheeks, one, then the other- tasting the salty liquid that proves your arousal for him- and you keep crying at that, snapped back to the situation when he laps up every drop of your tears you offer him,

"gonna cum sweets, my lil´ crier" he whispers, trying to comfort that focused, frustrated expression you have put on, brows furrowed and lips tucked between your teeth,

"me too daddy, g´nna come" stuttered, you feel him pulsate inside of you, spilling his warm load into your slippery walls, just then, you can come to your high as well, releasing everything that´s left onto him

After a couple minutes of breathless cuddles, his hand comes up to stroke your tears stained, wet cheeks,

"my little crybaby, did so well for daddy " he says, giving you a small, tired smile

you soothe his messy hair, giggling with the little energy you have left,

"you´re so sweet" his smile widens at that, engulfing you into his sweaty chest, arms hugging you tight, anything to make his crybaby feel loved

[trashmouth-richie]

dulcis ut rosa { sweet as a rose 🥀}

part 1 1/2– dulex (the gnat🥀) pt ii: vitiosus + deliciosus

pt iii: frangere me 🥀pt iv: ad caelum vel infernum, tecum sum

emperor Geta x female servant reader || word count: 4.4k || smidge of caracalla x reader

summary: brought to Palatine Hill as a gift from your village to the new Emperors— Caracalla claims you as his own, but Geta has his own plans for you when the moon crests into the sky.

tw: anal, p in v, rough inexperienced sex, oral m receiving, use of the word whore, caracalla is a whiny bitch, geta is fuckboy of the era. i googled a majority of the historical events, timelines, roman names for things, and latin translation— if it’s wrong, oh well. bad at feelings! geta, insane! crybaby! caracalla. idk geta is an unhinged mother fucker but what if he wasn’t so bad?

It had been months and many cycles of the moon ago when you were sent as a token of goodwill, a gift to the new Emperors in exchange for peace for the small village you resided in. 

Other Virgines and yourself were taken in the dark ebony of twilight, shackled side by side into the wobbly wagon driven by the village's strongest oxen. You didn’t dare object, instead you held your chin high, awaiting fate as the cart swayed this way and that, heart racing and blood pulsing as your journey to the Palatine Hill began. 

Some nights were still spent awake, remembering the crippling fear in your chest as you watched women from your village being gifted to generals as their personal servants. 

Some were given to soldiers as a sense of “release.” No better than a common whore being passed from soldier to soldier, fitting their needs.  The others were pillaged and picked like grapes from a cluster— and finally you had stood alone, defiance pooling in your eyes, pushing back traitorous tears.

Emperors Geta and Caracalla sat on ruby and gold twin thrones, identical in size and power. The tension between them was palpable— so thick you could reach out and stroke its ugly head. Where Caracalla’s grin was full of mischief, Geta had a snarl curled on his upper lip. 

You should have known then. The difference between them.

From where you stood, Geta’s dark eyes looked empty. Every so often they twitched as he spun the rings adorned on his left hand. His eyes rolled when his older brother giggled as the gifts from whatever poor village gave away their ripe, untouched women. 

Bare toes standing on the marble floor— unable to even grab shoes before you were heaved into the cart— you felt a heat from dark eyes that you were certain would drive someone mad if they dared look back. Like the boiling flames from hell itself were simmering in the coal of his irises. 

Caracalla jumped up, stepping forward from his throne, a wicked sense of evilness piercing from the iciness of his stare. His golden tooth caught the sun’s rays and you nearly vomited as he strode forward, eyeing you like a meal. 

A feminine laugh bubbled from his throat,  he clasped his hands together, bangles clanking in a sick harmony, a childlike grin spread on his pale face, “she’ll do.” 

You remember the first night in his chambers. Caracalla himself was bathed in ivory, same as the stone walls that were covered with flowing draperies. Although it was meant to be beautiful, the air felt choked, tight in your chest as you tried like hell to calm your frazzled nerves. 

The same giggle you heard in the throne room all morning now reverberated off the walls. He sat on a chaise lounge in only his dressing robes, sweat dampening his temples, that same damning stare as he slid his tongue over that disgusting gold tooth. Was he nervous? Drunk?

You had thought an emperor of his caliber would be used to this sort of thing. Maybe not. 

You had been cleaned by the palace servants, hair untangled and dirt scrubbed from under your nails. Hints of jasmine and honey perfumed from your gown as you tiptoed toward him. You watched as beads of sweat trickled down his brow, and he wiped at them hastily. 

“Sit.” 

The singular word seemed to give him trouble, as if he had never been in the presence of a woman before. 

He was clumsy, unthreading your gown with clammy hands, dragging across your skin like a damp sponge. Your skin crawled under his touch. 

His lips were stained with wine, thin and shriveled as he pecked at your skin. When you reached for him, hurrying this task along, he recoiled from your hand, shaking his head, a pained expression on his face as he held your wrist in a death grip. 

His eyes squinted shut and he screamed for you to leave. “Out!” “Get out!” Chalices and gold cutlery were tossed in your direction as you sprang for the door. 

Throwing open the heavy wood and running smack into the bare chest of the other Emperor. Emperor Geta. 

Although younger, he was taller than Caracalla. His chest was more broad, shoulders stretched tight with muscles. The same death-like stare on his face as he shoved you from him, having you stumble onto the stones into a wall. The cords of his neck strained as he took in your appearance.

He didn’t soften his features as you peered up at him with a fear stricken expression. He snarled, flaring his nostrils at the pathetic look of you, practically in rags. 

“Ah, and what do we have here? My brother’s whore in tears outside his chamber door. Can’t say I'm the least bit surprised.” He leaned into you, his eyes burning into your skin as he ripped the last of your gown to the floor, leaving you naked before him. 

“Tasteful thing, aren't you?” he gloated, pinching your bare nipple between his thumb and forefinger, laughing when you yelped in surprise and tried to cover your decency. 

He crowded into you, pushing your further down the hall way until you reached a dead end, his groin pressed into your middle. 

“Pathetic.” he sneered, enunciating every syllable the word held.  “Every single one of you.” His voice slithered like a snake against your ear, his breathing was forced, almost erratic and strained like he was holding himself back from bashing your skull into the wall. 

“Brought in here like some glorious stuffed hog on a spicket, trying to impress the Emperors so your village would be overlooked..” he clicked his tongue and grabbed the nape of your neck, his mouth only an inch from your own, “I don’t miss anything. Even though my sniffling brother may, I do not.” 

“Emperor, please.” 

“Do not speak!” he shouted loud enough to wake the entire palace, the veins in his neck stood at attention, throbbing,  “a whore will never open her mouth to me unless asked, or you are given something to fill it— understood?” 

You nodded feebly, a single tear trickling down your cheek. Geta placed the tip of his tongue to your skin catching the salty wetness, “if you can not please my brother, you will please me… otherwise what good are you here?” 

He shoved you to your knees, bits of sand biting into your skin as you hit the ground with a thud. His eyes were ablaze as he pulled out his cock. Veiny and impossibly thick, you’d never imagined one to be so large.  

Geta stroked himself, already hard and velvet beneath his palm, “open for your Emperor,” he demanded, the same snarl on his lip you noticed earlier today. 

You did as you were told, tongue out mouth agape waiting for him to slide against your mouth. Forcing himself inside, he filled it full until the pink head slithered into your throat, his groans vibrating through your bones. 

He rocked his hips into your face, panting and groaning some more as you gagged on his length— spit dripping down your bare chest and down his sack. 

He spoke nonsense to himself as you tried to breathe, squinting out tears from your eyes as you peered up at him. “The virgin mouth is fuck, yes, too good… impossibly sweet, untouched by another man, fuck, never get enough.” 

His large fist gripped your hair, pulling at the root as he bludgeoned himself further into you, fucking your head into the wall surely to leave a bruise or knock you unconscious, he wouldn’t care either way. 

“Stupid sniffling Caracalla,” he choked out between thrusts, “incompetent bastard wouldn’t know what to do with a whore if one fell on his cock,” he laughed and scrubbed at his face, reaching with his free hand to press the column of your throat, feeling himself deep beneath his thumb, “lucky for you, I do.” 

He came then, loud and shaky, holding you to him until your nose was tickled by his patch of dark pubic hair. He pulled out, leaving a pearl against his slit to rub against your mouth. 

“You might belong to Caracalla, but you will bow to me, and you… my sweet rosa, I have plans for you.” 

And that was how it started, how every night you would meet with Caracalla only to be summoned by Geta in the corridor upon your dismissal. Spilling secrets of his brother before pleasuring him with your mouth. 

In the light of day, you were ignored by him as you catered to Caracalla’s beck and call, and you often wondered if Geta had another servant he preferred during the sunlight hours. 

You were a midnight affair, a servant to one Emperor, a secret to the other. Caracalla was a strange man. Your time with him mostly was spent with him whining about the day's woes. 

How hard it was to be an emperor, the many expectations he had, the palace wasn’t large enough, his brother was too mean. Night by night his paranoia spread like wildfire, and he became gaunt, refusing to eat thinking Geta poisoned his food, his cheeks began to hallow. 

During all those nights he never once gave in to his own sexual temptations, he laid his head in your lap like an infant, whimpering and sniveling. One particular warm night you were sitting on his bed as you did every night before, listening to him sob about his mother and how he felt her attention was elsewhere. 

It took a single second of you being unresponsive for his switch to flip. Caracalla raged, flipping over furniture, ripping his draperies from the walls and pulling at his own hair. You were terrified, scared of him for the first time since the night you came to the palace. 

Caracalla bound your wrists above your head, and took force between your legs as you silently let him, disassociating from the entire situation, as he kissed a bruise to your collarbone, and scratched your thighs with his bitten fingernails. His inexperience was evident in his approach, in the way his hips held no rhythm, in the way he screeched like a midnight owl when he was close to release. 

He repeated the same thing over and over until he spilled against your stomach, a plea to either himself or to the Gods above, I am worthy. 

You shook violently, not with pleasure but with fear. You had thought of spitting in his face, but realized death would be your only future if you were to humiliate him during this catastrophic performance of what he would assume to be lust. 

Caracalla finished with a sweaty brow, laying down to fall asleep like a babe, an arm wrapped around your middle. A gaudy rouge colored his pale cheeks as drool slipped from his lips. 

You felt sick, defiled and disgusting. 

You’d rather be fucked by thirty men at once than have to endure that pathetic, cry baby fit from Caracalla. Gently placing his arm on the pillow, you fled. 

Missing your village, your family, the man who you were supposed to marry someday, your tears clouded your vision down the winding corridors of the palace. You would have fought to stay behind, should have pleaded to the men that you could be useful to them. This whore’s life isn’t what you had bargained for, death would be swifter— easier than this. 

The sweet scent of the balneum made you take a detour to the right, and you sobbed upon seeing the moonlight glint across the soft bathing water. 

Desperate to scrub his filth from your skin, the water was barely warm but you couldn’t care less as you sunk deep into the marble stone basin. Scrubbing your skin with anything your fingers could get ahold of. The jasmine soaps the servants washed you with the first time was tucked into its cradle and you slathered until your skin shined like an apparition. 

Tears dropped from the apples of your cheeks hitting the massive pool like a rainstorm over the ocean. Caracalla was a coward, a nuisance to Rome, to the Gods themselves. You damned his name as you scrubbed and lathered, repeating feverishly. 

For how long Geta stood in the doorway, you weren’t sure. You weren’t where you should have been, and he was irate upon your absolute disrespect of his time. He wanted to shout, plunge his way into the water and drag you out by your hair, bring you to the coliseum and make everyone watch your death against whatever animal he saw fit. 

You broke his rules, his laws, his heart raced with anger at the sight of you casually washing yourself. Nobody in the palace bathed in the moonlight, and when he heard commotion from the tepidarium room, he stomped towards it to find whoever the culprit was idiotic enough to disobey. He was alarmed to find you in there. Frantic, shooken up, no doubt from the hands of his flaccid brother.

“The lamb strayed away from the flock, I see.” his voice was like a snake, cool and calm but dripping with acidity that could kill at any given time. Jumping at his voice you nearly shrieked at his sudden appearance. 

“The moon has passed the mountains, yet you do not seek me out? Instead I find you here, helping yourself to the royal bathing quarters, as if you deserve such luxuries.”

Your voice trembled, as you climbed from the water, “I wanted… I needed to be clean.” 

His eyebrows twisted inward, confusion riddling his features until he stepped further into the room and noticed the marks across your skin. Caracalla’s mark. The marks of an hungry, untrained runt, trying to prove himself to the litter. 

Geta’s face boiled with sadistic rage as his eyes scanned down your body, the scratches of an novice beast unable to pleasure a whore. Bruises from a limp man who deserved a knife to his throat.

“Come.” he demanded, not waiting for you to follow as his stalked from the room, tossing a long cloth behind him to your awaiting hands. 

—

Water trickled behind you and down the length of your body as you padded on bare feet to catch up with Geta. 

This part of the palace was foreign to you, a set of stairs leading to a dark tower that you didn’t know existed, and then you realized why. He was leading you up to his chambers.

Geta and Caracalla lived on opposite ends of the palace, their hatred splitting them apart as far as it could allow. 

He thrust open a concealed door and stomped down a few stone stairs leading into his chamber. 

It was decorated in hues of deep ruby and scarlets, black linens flanked his walls. His bed was massive, alluring in the dark majesty of its presence. A single candle flickered beside his bed, casting shadows in the deep night. 

His hooded eyes seemed to strike with a ripple of psychotic light when he came back to the doorway to pull you inside by your wrist. 

Sitting on a lavish wooden chair he leans back, spreading his legs wide, reaching for a wine filled chalice downing it in one gulp, his eyes never leaving you. 

“Let me make myself clear,” he stated, “I do not care what Caracalla does in his chambers I never have nor will I now.” 

Geta wiped at his chin and set down the glass, his finger rounding the rim, “You came here knowing what your life would hold as an Emperor’s servant or a soldier’s fuck sack. The little amount of freedom you were once born with has vanished, and what a pity that must be…but quite honestly,” he gleamed leaning forward his face warmed by the light, casting shadows of evil on his brows, “I am not a savior to the fucked raw whores of this palace who weep after fulfilling their master’s needs.”

Your eyes casted downward at the patterned marble floor. “I told you the night we met that if you aren’t pleasing my brother or myself, you have no purpose here, did I not?” 

Your head shook up and down, knowing every word he said was true. 

“I will grant you gratitude where it is due by saying that you have done everything I have asked of you, sharing my brother’s secrets, using your mouth to fill my needs— it is all very pleasing…”

For the first time you look into Geta’s eyes, the shadows inside flicker with the candle light, and you are drawn to them like a moth. 

“… however, I find myself enraged thinking of that shriveled weasel dick not taking you to bed in a proper manner. It is not my style to fuck like a lover would—I use women to my needs and that’s it.” 

He rubs his jaw, as if the stubble was itching him, suddenly stopping to look at you dead in the eyes as his narrowed to slits, “but you, are a gnat. An annoyance I can not seem to get rid of, and I can’t decide if you are a woman version of the plague or something else…” His eyes glimmer for a second before he shakes his head to clear his mind, “Get on the bed.” 

“Emperor?” 

His voice boomed as he slammed down his cup, “do not make me say it twice, I find myself to be quite angry when I have to repeat my words.” His throat pulsed in wrath, and his knuckles turned white from his fists being clenched. 

You do as you're told, gingerly making your way to the enormous frame and mattress, sitting rigidly. Geta undresses himself, standing bare before you, that glorious length springing freely. 

“The difference between Caracalla and myself, is I know how to use my God bless-ed cock to pleasure a woman, and I’m damn good at it.” 

He’s on you in a flash, his breath sweet from the wine he had consumed. His body was solid on top of yours, pale skin never exposed to the sun. Enormous shoulders dressed in muscles that were hidden with robes daily. He sniffs loud, taking in your scent you feel his body shiver above you. 

His teeth nip at your earlobe, piercing through the flesh releasing a trail of hot blood onto your neck. It’s swiftly lapped away by his tongue, a low groan following as he tastes you. 

“If your blood is this sweet I would hate to know how you taste between your legs.” 

You squirm beneath him as he bites your lip the same way, his canines piercing your plushy flesh and he moves his mouth over the bites, enjoying the iron-like taste. A flood of wetness rushes to your core and you suddenly feel hot everywhere… something Geta doesn’t miss. 

“My brother’s whore is quick to becoming wet.” he says with a chuckle, sweeping his fingers between your folds, his rings collecting your arousal on his knuckles before he pulls them into his mouth,  “mmmm leave it to Caracalla to fuck a bitch when she’s drier than a well.” 

His mouth assaults your neck. Sweeping circling as he groans into you, his cock rutting against your sex as you pull him further into you, a hand coiled in his golden hair, yanking slightly, a traitorous moan escaping his lips. 

Your hips widen to try to sneak the tip of him into your cunt but he only laughs at your attempt.

“Look how desperate you are, pathetic thing… so eager to be filled by a man who knows how to fuck.” He groans when your nails scratch down his back, and he licks his lip to not get too carried away. 

That pitiful excuse for a human couldn’t satisfy his own hand, let alone a whore who begs to be brutalized.” You moan his name when he skims blunt nails around the peaks of your nipples, running his palms along your rib cage. 

“You're teasing me, Emperor, te necessito.” 

The snarl that seems to be a permanent fixture on his face curls on his lip, “begging is a good start, we both know how good you are on your knees, but I like the pity showing in your eyes, as if I’m your God.”

With that final word and title, Geta thrust himself into you, shredding your walls with each delicious inch of his cock buried inside of you. All breath is expunged from your lungs as you stare into the devil’s eyes, a chokehold to your own.

“Ora pro me, Deus meus, pray for me God,” he grunted as he pistoned back into your heat. Your screams filled his chambers, the tower shaking with seduction as he matched your shouts with grunts and moans of his own. 

He pawed at your tits, squeezing and claiming every inch of skin he could get his hands on. Your thighs were wrapped around his waist, your hips circling to meet his rhythms. A large hand wrapped tight around your throat, and you licked your lips letting a grin spread against them. 

Geta was leaned forward just enough for you to put a hand against his own throat, squeezing as tightly as you could. He wasn’t expecting this, wasn’t expecting someone to match his own sadistic fantasies.. let alone a commoner from a village he didn’t care to know the name of. 

His eyes embellished like a dark jewel in a burning hell before he snarled and backhanded your cheek. He had never been more turned on, practically fucking you stupid as the welts from his rings raised on your skin. 

“Puella pulchra, pretty girl,” Geta whispered into your ear after flipping you over, his cock wedged between your ass cheeks. “Mea es, mea es, you’re mine;  no one else’s.” 

His rings bit at your sides as he positioned your ass upwards, leaving his dental records in each cheek before slapping them hard in unison, mocking your yelp as he dribbled spit where he needed it to be. 

With no warning he entered your other hole at a bruising pace. You saw black when Geta bottomed out and you swore you were near passing out from the stretch of his giant cock stuffed tight inside of you. 

Your pussy throbbed to his commands as he pulled you by your neck with one hand, so your back was leaned against his chest. Thick fingers slotted themselves in the heat of your core until his rings were nestled against your clit. “How dare you let Caracalla have at you first, this cunt is too sweet, too sinful to not be mine.” 

Babbling along to everything he said you simply screamed yes over and over, as your head lolled back on his shoulder. You came so hot and bound tight that it flooded his fingers and spread down your legs as he kept pounding inside of you. 

“Oh fuck,” Geta grunted, shoving your forward to gain leverage on your hips as he pistoned into you a final time. A great yell breached his throat as his seed flooded your ass, filling it full and spilling over both himself and you, down to the laundered sheets. 

You collapsed onto his bed, legs shaking and quaking struggling to catch your breath. Geta fell onto his back beside you, his skin glistening with sweat, his release coated thickly on his softening cock and pasted into the curly hair. 

“Dulcis ut rosa,” he murmured with his eyes closed, licking his lips to savor your taste once more. 

Tumbling on shaky knees, you lift yourself up just enough to eye his length, wrapping your mouth around his cock, sucking off his spend and yourself from him. Moaning as you devoured him.  

He hissed at the contact, reaching out to stroke your cheek with his thumb “you’ve made a fool of me, you wicked thing, I’m nothing but a fool.” 

When you were finished, Geta laid in silence beside you. His thumb strumming along his torso his eyes wide staring into the ceiling, deep in thought. 

Noticing a decanter of wine you asked if he’d like another glass. “No,” he said, still staring upward, unable to look at you. “I’m tired, leave me now.” 

Removing yourself from the bed you find the dressing robe he was wearing when he found you in the bath and slipped it over your shoulders. 

Leaving his chambers left you feeling rotten. 

It was strange how he looked at you during and after, he was talented just as he said he was, and you knew you’d never forget the night the other Emperor bed you in his sheets. For tomorrow was another day, back to Caracalla and his blubbering whines of the hardships of royalty.

Geta lie awake for hours. Eventually seeking refuge on his balcony staring into the pale ivory moon, silently asking the Gods for answers he himself didn’t know. He had bedded hundreds of women. Every shape, size and color. But you. The little gnat. You had been buzzing in his ears every night since you had gotten to Palatine Hill. 

Since the day he laid his eyes on you and scoffed to try to denounce his admiration, Geta silently wished death on Caracalla when he claimed you as his own. His original plan was to spoil the apple from the inside out, use you as a spy to gain information about his deranged brother— but it became more to him, you became more. But why? 

The God’s didn’t have the answers tonight, just like they hadn’t the night before, or every dawn since the night you showed up here. Guilt struck him like a bolt from Jupiter’s mighty hand and he pushed it down with the remaining wine he had stashed beside his bed. 

The facaded mask he wore these days almost slipped off tonight when you lay beside him. How he wanted to reach out and touch your skin while you laid in euphoric bliss. And he shut you out to avoid something he couldn’t risk. He didn’t know how to love a woman, his love was for war and power, blood and gold— still the gnat buzzed, unrelentless. 

Laying in the sex sodden sheets, he knew what his dream would be of tonight. It hadn’t changed in the months of you arriving here: Caracalla dead by his hand, and you, the gnat, sweet as a rose…his empress.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

latin translation:

virgines— virgins

dulcis ut rosa— sweet as a rose

balneum— bathing room

te necessito— i need you

ora pro me deus meus— pray for me my God

puella pulchra— pretty girl

mea es— you’re mine

tagging some moots: @joejoequinnquinn @choke-me-eddie @etherealxwitch

[aemndxx]

Crybaby!reader being cradled by rafe!! She just needs her daddy, he’s tough but soft at times and he just reassures her, calming her down from her little tantrum 🤍🤍🤍

𝓇.cameron. ┆ lovin' on you.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ won't be able to write much today… goin' shoppin' for my new apartment. 💐 here's a lil' somethin' for the soft girlies . <3

"c'mon baby, stop your cryin'—you're gonna make yourself sick," he sighs softly, cradling you in his lap, keeping a firm pressure around you as he gently rocks you, and you feel so safe in his thick, strong and protective arms, so loved.

"i.. 'm sorry, daddy, jus' can't help it sometimes," you mewl with a cute pout, another stream of fresh tears falling down your cheeks, making you bury your face into the crook of rafe's warm neck, and he sighs again, pressing a gentle, loving kiss to the top of your head, getting a whiff of those feminine hair products that he loves on you, something sweet and vanilla scented, just utterly and perfectly you.

"just needed dad, huh?" rafe chuckles softly, giving his head a slight shake to himself in amusement, and he can still hear you sniffling softly, trying to be quiet and not upset him, which he hates, because he's been trying to work on you and your shyness, always so nervous to upset him in someway, somehow.

it probably has something to do with your daddy issues, rafe thinks, slightly smug and malicious, but that's why he was the man who stepped up—not just as your man, and not just as your boyfriend, but as someone you can always look up to, someone you can go to for guidance, someone who'll be firm with you and punish you if need be.

and it was too easy, becoming that someone you desperately needed as he manipulated his way into your life.

however, rafe wasn't the bad guy—no, he knew you needed him, needed that extra love and attention, always so needy and whiny when you didn't get it, but now that rafe was here, with you, now that he has you under his control, you're the most perfect, docile little angel, all submissive and obedient and so, so sweet it's almost sickening.

"don't worry, dollface," rafe croons sweetly, before gently lifting your face up with two light little love-taps to your jaw, catching your attention as you instantly look and perk up, locking eyes with your handsome boyfriend.

and fuck, rafe thinks you're so pretty when you're crying.

"no more crying, ya' hear me?" rafe commands, though he keeps his voice light and gentle, but still firm, knowing he doesn't truly need to keep you in check, you know his rules already, and you've always been rafe's good girl.

sweetly, almost tenderly, rafe carefully wipes away the flowing tears down your flushed cheeks, already knowing you'll wanna redo your makeup once you see that your mascara and eyeliner had run down and created quite the mess—but again, rafe still thinks you're the prettiest girl in the world.

"sorry again, daddy—jus' love you 'nd missed you," you answer meekly, eyes watery and bloodshot, and your pouty lips swollen slightly from you always anxiously biting them, another bad habit that rafe is trying to work on getting you to stop.

"don't worry 'bout it, baby—daddy's here now, yea?" rafe hums softly, pressing a few soft, loving kisses all over your face, making you giggle sweetly and playfully roll your doe-like, misty eyes, which makes rafe smile.

"how about we put on a film and stay in for the rest of the night, yeah?" rafe offers politely, not minding watching one of your stupid romantic movies if it makes you smile, and get you outta this terrible mood of 'missing him' as you always like to complain.

but again, rafe finds that he doesn't mind his girl missing him, not one bit—in fact, he enjoys that fact a bit too much, but he would never admit it aloud, not even if he had a gun to his head.

"okay!" you chirp happily, already over your little tantrum from minutes ago, snuggling even deeper into rafe's lap as you both get comfortable on his bed, looking for one of your favorite movies to watch.

afterwards, once you decide on the film 'the notebook', rafe can't help but release a small, little grin to himself, because he already knows in just the next ten minutes, you'll be hysterically crying all over again, and he'll have to comfort you as you watch noah and allie's love story.

and if rafe already secretly knew that was the film you were gonna pick, and that 'the notebook' was one of your favorite romance films of all time... well, he didn't mind that too much, either.

[gremlingottoosilly]

König and Crybaby reader?

Imagine being his pretty crybaby captive, sitting in his bedroom with your neck tied up to a bedpost so you won't run...he was tying your hands and legs before, but you'd always manage to get out of the shackles, so now he decided to put you in a collar you won't took off so easily...Konig will scold you for "ruining his sheets" when you're crying in his pillows too much, but it's not a secret that he adores your crying face. You're so sensitive and fragile, he will bully you through each interaction! Konig knows you're weak, he will call you pathetic on a whim - you'd cry even more and it's getting him too hard to handle. You just too dumb to realize that he loves having you so sensitive - his cock twitches inside of you every time he hears your little sobs and hiccups, he is fucking you even harder when you whimper and beg for him to stop. Will kiss your face and lick the tears from your face. Just loves having such a softie crybaby darling, he wouldn't have to act too strong and scary with you! Konig has a fragile ego, so having a darling who isn't challenging him and fits into his understanding of fragile femininity is a godsend. Loves to kiss you all over and call you pathetic right after. Would yell at you for something meaningless and then hug you right after, mixing up everything in your empty little head. You don't challenge him, you stopped running away - and he just can't stop making you cry over and over...

[mieluscious]

keep crying. choso kamo

ෆ pairings : choso kamo × female reader

ෆ genre : smut, pwp

ෆ words count : 2k

ෆ warnings : mdni. sub!choso, meandom!reader, reader is a bitch, degradation, hair pulling, riding, handjob, public sex, sex on the floor, pet play, choso is in love, feminine petnames (she loves to call him chuchu too), toxic relationship, face grabbing, reader loves to make choso cry . . . ໑ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

the sound of your high heels were echoing against the walls of the school bathroom. “aw. what happened to my little chuchu.” you pouted as you walked in a feline way towards choso, who was crouched against the wall, holding his hair and sobbing. your smile grew as you watched him shudder and sniffle back his tears. you stopped in front of him, the tips of your heels touching his shoes. “eyes on me baby.” he slowly raised his head towards you and you couldn't help but chuckle prettily as you saw his tear-filled face. 

your phone vibrated in the pocket of your mini skirt and you took it out to read the message you had just received. “y-you called them again.” the sound of your long pink fingernails on your phone screen echoed in the cold, silent room. you looked up from your screen and chewed your gum more slowly. when your eyes met his he immediately lowered his gaze. you chuckled again.

you moved closer to him and he blushed when he saw your panties peeking out from under your mini skirt. you delicately caught his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “i’m so sorry chu’, i just love it when someone beats you up for me.” you run your thumb over his lower lip. his teary eyes met yours, you smiled at him. “so i can take care of you afterwards.” he sniffed and you couldn't help but find him adorable, crying all alone in his corner like a child. you slipped your phone back into your skirt and crouched down in front of him. you brought his face close to yours, his teary eyes staring at you. you stroked his cheek and felt him snuggle up against the palm of your hand. “you're so pretty covered with bruises and blood.” his mouth half-opened. “so pretty when you cry.” your thumb slipped over his eye, wiping away the remaining tears. “what are you looking at chu’ ?” your smile widened. choso drank in your words, hypnotized by your pretty red lips. you grabbed his jaw and brought your lips close to his. “my lil pet wants a kiss ?” his eyes went back into yours, he nodded.  you dug your nails into the skin of his jaw, making him cry even more. "but we have to take care of your cute little wounds before, right?"

choso's shirt was completely torn off, revealing his bare, blood-stained torso. his breathing was faster and the fact that you were standing in front of him made him even more anxious. your hand caressed his hair. "a-are you gonna call them again?" you couldn't help smiling at his terrified expression. you grabbed your bag and pulled out some bandages. "t-they really..hurt me today-" a whimper escaped from between his lips as he felt you move closer to him until your knees were on either side of his hips. he couldn't take his gaze off your skirt, which rose up over your bare thighs.

you raised his face to yours and your thumb pressed deliberately on one of his wounds at the corner of his mouth, making him cry out loud with one eye closed. "choso is such a lil child." he hated it when you called him by anything other than your usual nicknames. you pressed harder. "such a crybaby." you brought your face close to him and his tears wet your fingers. your thumb slipped over his lower lip. "who owns you chu." 

your lips brushed together. "y-you.." you were smiling with all your teeth. choso could only see you: you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. 

you slid your hands down his torso, scratching his skin lightly with your long nails. you licked his pouting lips, making him moan prettily, his eyes never leaving yours. "touch yourself for me princess." he blushed at the tone of your voice. "make yourself even prettier than you are." he arched his back against the wall and slowly slid one of his hands to his crotch while panting under your dark gaze. you whispered what a good boy he was in the hollow of his ear, making him flinch because of the sensitivity of your warm breath on his ear. you blew on his ear suddenly, making him moan loudly as he reached for his cock in his pants. "how sensitive you are chuchu." you grabbed his jaw and pushed his head back against the cold bathroom wall as he slowly began to jerk himself off. his mouth half-opened to let out little gasps under your envious gaze. "does it feel good baby?" he nodded and bit his lower lip as his eyes fell on your pretty lips. "do it faster for me mh?" he began to stroke himself harder and his back arched as he cried out louder, his body was shaking and his cheeks had become redder, the way choso was desperately trying to speak was so cute that you couldn't help praising him as you stroked his cheek as if he were the most precious thing to you. 

"i-im..i-m gonna..." his tears rolled down his cheeks. "c-cum..-ah!-" you wiped his tears with your thumb. he panted loudly, he caught his lip between his teeth as his eyes darted over all the features of your face. "y-you're- so... pretty..ahh-so pretty i love you-" you smiled at him evilly and pressed your nose to his, your hand went down on his and you suddenly removed it from his dick leaving him deprived of his orgasm that was about to explode.

he threw his head back against the wall, hearing him sob in frustration made you so proud of him. "you're so good chuchu." you placed your lips on his chin, kissing it tenderly. "i'll reward you for letting yourself get beat up for me." he mewled as he felt your warm fingers place bandages on the wounds on his stomach while gently kissing his tear-drenched face. you pressed your lips on his eye, making him squeal softly. "your tears are so sweet princess." he whimpered when your lips finally reached his lips, brushing them gently, your hand slipped into his hair, which you grabbed firmly, causing his head to throw back even more. "you wanna fuck?" he moaned when you finally sat on him with his cock resting against your pussy. "you want me to fuck you choso?" he nodded and his mouth half-opened against your lips, his feverish gaze turned you on even more. you slid your hand along the skin of his torso until you reached his cock, which you grabbed, his tongue came out of his mouth with a groan. you pushed his cock into your panties trapping it between the fabric and your wet pussy lips. the tip of his cock slammed against your clit making you both moan against each other's mouths.

"p-please.. fuck me-" choso was so demanding he couldn't take it anymore, seeing you sitting on him so prettily and the sensation of your wet pussy against his cock was driving him crazy he wanted you to fuck him so badly, his body was shaking.

you laughed softly against his mouth. “you're not getting that pussy today.” his gaze turned to distress and you smiled even wider as you began to rub yourself gently against his cock. you bit your lip as you felt the thickness between your pussy lips and the moans of frustration that came out from choso's mouth drove you crazy. “you know why ?” you grabbed his throat and licked his teeth as well as his upper lip, while he stuck out his tongue to try and catch your mouth for a kiss. you moaned, throwing your head back slightly as you felt choso's hands grip your ass firmly, making you rub harder against his cock. you lowered your face again to him, licking one of the many tears that ran down his face. “because i want you to cry even more” choso threw his head back, moaning loudly as he felt your wet pussy jerk his cock faster. “i want to see your face contort with sadness and frustration” you couldn't help imagining someone opening the bathroom door and finding the two of you fucking on the floor, seeing you the little high school princess with the school weirdo's dick stuck in her panties. you bounced even more against his cock as you felt choso's legs shake, a sign that he was about to cum. 

your hair fell to your neck and choso watched as your locks caught between your breasts, making you even hotter in his eyes. “p-please..ah..put it in im begging you-” you grabbed his hair and the pressure of his hands on your ass tightened. he cried even more as he felt he was about to cum without feeling your walls around him.

“yes baby keep crying.” you pulled his head back and your other hand went to his jaw, which you grabbed to plant the nail of your thumb in the wound on his cheek. he opened his mouth wide and stuck out his tongue, so close to your lips, he wanted to kiss you so badly. “keep crying for me.” you were about to cum too as you saw choso  being a crying and moaning mess, the tears were running down his collarbones and his breathing was so fast that his whole body was shaking underneath you. 

you couldn't take your eyes off him as the bathroom door opened on your friend, who gasped at the sight of you. you looked behind you, still rubbing yourself like an animal in heat against choso's cock. “what are you doing here?” 

your friend's eyes fell on choso's hands on your ass under your mini skirt. she flushed at the sight. “i-im sorry i couldn’t find you so-” you threw your head back while moaning loudly when you finally decided to slide choso's cock into your pussy. choso opened his mouth wide with surprise and let out a low growl. he'd moan "yes yes yes yes yes" as he finally felt you bounce on his cock as if your life depended on it. “i-i don’t understand whatchu doing here with him.” you smiled as you looked at your friend, she was shocked to see you getting dirty with a guy like choso. 

you moaned louder as you felt choso bury his head in your breasts you wrapped an arm around his shoulders letting him know he had your permission to lick them. you sighed. “ahh- what im doing ?” you placed your cheek on choso's head, smiling with all your teeth, your now piercing gaze locked on those of your friend. “im fucking my little bunny right here.” you grabbed choso by the hair once more to pull his head out of your breasts, his gaze was feverish and his mouth hung open with drool running down his chin, his half-open eyes fell on your friend. “look. isn't he cute when he's about to cum?” choso's lower stomach contracted and his back arched against the wall as the walls of your pussy tightened around his cock. you pressed your chest against his and lifted your ass to fall heavily on his cock before bouncing on it quickly making you both moan loudly, you brought back your attention to choso and stuck your tongue into his mouth, your kiss turned him on even more and he couldn't help trying to thrust up into your pussy. 

“i-im gonna c-cum-” you left his mouth to lick his tears and the way you were now bouncing on his cock was inhuman, your friend who was still petrified behind you couldn't help but be fascinated by the way you were fucking choso. 

you smiled, throwing your head back as you felt your orgasm rising. “you wanna cum baby ? then look at her in her eyes.” you didn’t have to say more when choso came hard in your pussy his eyes were deeply entrenched in those of your friend while you freed yourself as well. choso wrapped his arms around your waist still shaking and hid his face in your breasts again, you stroked his hair with a pretty laugh and looked at your friend behind you again.

 “isn't he cute mh? my little princess.”

© 𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 ! mdni — do not steal, modify or repost my work pls don't make me mad im a human just like you. ☆⌒(>。<)

[zillatastic]

rapper! ony x singer! reader

summary: good girl gone bad ; you just can’t get enough of rapper ! ony who has made a name for himself for participating in a plethora of (usually) one-sided rap beefs, being a creative lyricist/producer, & being such a bad influence to your heart.

(I suck at summarizing ಥ_ಥ̥)

this post contains: head-cannons, cursing, n-word usage, smidge of smut, spelling errors, lowercase grammar, semi-toxic ! ony or wtv, crybaby ! reader, vague description of reader’s body, lowk clickbaited summary, not proofread.

▬▬ rapper! ony who “accidentally” leaks a snippet of his new song with your moans as the intro melody.

much to your horror the audio blows up on tiktok and now every time you open the app, that accursed audio plays.

the worst thing about it is that every time you bring up the audio to ony and question how it even got leaked in the first place, you’re met with a..

“mmcht, ma, for the last time I don’t know how it got leaked. connie’s dumb ass must have did something stupid and posted the wrong shit.”

or a..

“fatbutt, I don’t know why you complaining. you sound sexy as fuck and the fans wanna hear more of the track once i release it. you don’t wanna disappoint our fans, right ma?”

“n-no, I don’t wanna disappoint them but I just don’t feel comfortable with it. maybe you can call connie one more time and try to get it taken care of ?”

“ight.”

it never gets taken care of, in fact three weeks later ony drops the song with eren as featured artist which doubles the song’s popularity and makes it on the billboard hot 100.

“whose pussy is this, ma ? ~ mhm tell me ?” ony asks while delivering slow harsh strokes into your trembling body. your hair wrapped tightly in his hands as it helps aid his assault into your weeping cunt while his free hand is gripping your midsection equally as tight.

“f-fucknmhm, it’s yours pa,” ony’s abusive thrusts to your pussy force your words to ball up in the back of your throat as you try to concentrate on listening to his commands and hold the phone recording the intimate moment.

watching the phone slowly start to slip through your half- boneless hands, it urged him to re-wrap your hair (tightly) into his hands and harshly lift your body onto his chest while continuing his now- upward thrusts into your cunt. the new angle allowed a deeper reach into your cervix as ony heartlessly knocked into it. “say it louder for the camera baby. whose owns this pussy ?”

“ony does, ony owns my pussy. fuck~ please pa I’m so close.”

“good girl, ma. you so pretty when you cry. now cum for me.” ony commands as he watches your body tremble in pure overstimulation and pleasure. biting his lip as he gently wipes the tears from out the corner your eyes and leans down to kiss your cheek.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who can sense when someone is making his girl laugh.

“ony what is your opinion on the Kendrick vs Drake beef?” a reporter asked while shoving her mic into his face.

ony who was tired of being asked this question sighed and tried his best to formulate a sentence that would not offend either rapper.

“well you know I be-” he stops mid sentence to turn around before hearing the soft chuckle of his girlfriend from across the garden of the regal event.

the reporter who was standing there unanswered lifted a brow and tried to gain ony’s attention back on the question for it’s live broadcasted audience.

“umm, ony ?” the reporter asked until she heard a feminine chuckle from the other side of her. the reporter and the cameraman turned swiftly to what caught ony’s eye to see you laughing hysterically at something thee Brent Faiyaz said.

“I’ll be back.” ony mumbled.

(damn.. someone stole my bitch.)

▬▬ rapper ! ony who promotes your music to his hardcore fan base.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who cannot keep his hands off your body.

he is stuck to you like white on rice.

you physically cannot escape this man because his strong arms are always securely wrapped around your waist, neck or arm.

ony isn’t a controlling person, but he is very clingy. he likes to feel the presence of his girl around him and having a body part of his connect to yours-

It sedates him.

cheesy? I know.. but he’s your man, so you’ll deal with it.

▬▬ rapper ! ony whose mean mug is nasty.

he does not play when it comes to people besides him being handsy with you.

ony’s sideeye has become a stan twitter icon.

in the earlier stages of your blooming relationship ony did not want to come off as too overbearing (he is) and let a lot of of his boundaries be overstepped. he never wanted to cause a big scene, so he always used his face to project his emotions instead of his words and fist.

a particular event where you had been pulled to the side to be interviewed had blown up all over social media because of ony deviously standing in the back- mugging the fuck out of the reporter whose hands were on the small of your back.

retweets of the incident had you delighted while ony was rather annoyed.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who dedicates an entire album to you.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who corrects your behavior.

ony has eyes all over. never forget that.

you two had gotten into an argument the day before over something small. at this point you had already forgotten what you two were arguing about, but the impact of the altercation was still there.

you despised when ony bested you in an argument and in retaliation you decided to attend a not-so little house party that ony advised you not to attend.

so what did you do?

you went to the party.

that night you’d tell ony that it was all sasha’s fault, but this was a conscious choice made by yourself.

that night you were spent bent over ony’s leg being spanked till tears then finger fucked.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who can’t stop talking about you during interviews.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who verbally dragged another artist who decided it would be cute to throw shade at your new single.

“ony, delete the tweet.” with your hands on your hips you let out a deep sigh. you two have been bickering back and forth all evening about the tweet-simply because you didn’t care what someone with barely 500k streams had to say.

“no, she’s gonna learn to pick her battles wisely today, ma.”

“oh my fucking god onyankopon put the phone down.”

(end of rapper! ony x singer! reader headcannons pt. 1)

author note: thank you so much for reading and noting. I have not written in years (2019-22) and I wanted to jump back into something new. usually I would’ve written a 10k fanfic on naruto but I’ve been tuning into a lot of aot/jjk content and I’ve decided this is my new era of writing. I cannot wait to find my own comfort and flow with this new fandom !!

[glokyo]

18+. (slight smut.. don’t be scared.)

Whenever you got around Suguru, its like you can’t contain your femininity. Whiny, pouting, acting all pathetic, being a crybaby. It’s nothing Suguru doesn’t love because he knows, at the end of the day, he’s the only thing that can contain his wife.

You don’t even have to use that pretty head of yours whenever he’s around, let the man handle it as he does best. And he does, every-single-time.

Suguru took on a modeling career a year back and has been doing great ever since. The money that comes with it—was beautiful— and the pictures? If you could keep every picture of him in a box and lock it away, you would.

Recently, a new model has emerged. People call her Angel face. Her features were model worthy, beautiful cheekbones, tan skin, freckles, and long.. long dark shiny hair. She was perfect. You’d hate to admit it but you couldn’t help getting jealous seeing her around your man. Call it bitchy or bitter but she has nothing on you apart from being eye-candy.

He was out all day, working with that girl. You being on your phone, eating and cleaning.. just simply out of boredom. The moment Suguru entered those doors, all hell broke loose.

“It’s not true, baby. I can assure you I wouldn’t do a thing like that.” He reassured you, his voice deep and smooth. He held you by your waist, pressing feather light kisses along your neck. He wouldn’t doubt your love for a second.

The news filled with gossips that Geto and another famous model, Anaine, were both dating. Looking at the pictures, it would’ve probably be seen that way since Geto took his ring off for those pictures.. obviously deeply regretted.

But you and him both knew it wasn’t true. He was married to you; his highschool sweetheart. These stupid rumors kept circulating and it was surely because Anaine was fueling them. Basking in the attention at Getos expense.

You threw a fit, which is an understatement. Your pretty head not being used for anything but asking and complaining that you so much as overreacted; thinking Geto took his ring off purposefully just to get attention… perhaps, for another woman.

Geto sighed, leaning down to press his forehead against yours, your arms wrapped around your chest, trying so desperately to make that innocent face intimidating. “You know I don’t want anyone but you, my love. You’re all I need. There’s nothing or nobody that can compare nor replace you. No-body.” He emphasizes on his last word with a tiny bite to your neck, sliding his lips up to your ear, flattening his tongue against your lobe, tongue piercing sliding against the skin, making you huff. His hands slide down your body, your waist, and to your ass, gripping firmly.

“Should I remind you how.. fuckin.. perfect y’re?… Fuck y’right here… treat you s’ sweet and fuck you s’ good?…” He mumbles against your ear, lazily grinding against your front. You mumble nothings, already out your whiny little head. You drop your hands to his biceps, fluttering your eyes shut. “Look at me.” Suguru demands, voice quiet yet so deep. You bid, not missing a beat. Beading those big doe eyes, batting those long pretty lashes.

“It’s you I live for. Say the word… you deserve whatever your palms touch.”

note: first blog🫣 so nervyyyyyyy. hope this reaches the right audience, if it does, boost for more if you like it🩷🩷🩷✨😛

[longing-for-rain]

Ember Island Players…Racist Caricatures or Meta Commentary?

This episode was supposed to be a fun filler episode to recap the events of the show in a silly way before the series finale, but it’s managed to become arguably one of the most controversial episodes in the fandom. Over the years, Aang’s possessive behavior towards Katara has been rightfully criticized, but there are always people who attempt to justify everything Aang does.

Apparently, the latest iteration of this is the claim that—wait for it—we should be sympathetic towards Aang and give him a pass in The Ember Island Players because he felt “emasculated” due to the supposed “feminization” of his culture.

I’ve been called racist for saying this is a reach, but it’s more than a reach. It’s an entire acrobatics routine; a level of media illiteracy that shows a lack of understanding of the point of that episode.

Yes, Aang’s character is portrayed in a silly, mocking way. So are all of the other characters. That’s the point; the episode was a filler, a gimmick, and the underlying comedy is the fact that all of the characters are reacting to exaggerated, one-dimensional versions of their own personalities.

For example:

Katara is portrayed as an “overemotional crybaby” in her own words, and is constantly giving motivational speeches and crying

Sokka’s “comedic relief” archetype is played up to the point his lines are just corny one-liners

Zuko is portrayed as an angsty, whiny pretty-boy who acts like a bratty asshole at all times

Toph is a huge buff guy (although in this case, it’s a play on how her character was originally going to be a “jock” type male character)

As for Aang? He’s portrayed as unserious, goofy, and childish. Which—just like all the others—is a jokey exaggeration of his childish demeanor and nature. He’s not even alone in taking offense to his portrayal. All of the characters aside from Toph hate their characters for largely the same reason. They’re being confronted with aspects of themselves that make them insecure. For Aang, it’s his immaturity—and specifically his fears that he’ll be rejected by Katara.

As for why Aang is played by a woman? Well, we don’t actually have to wonder about that, because the creators themselves answer this question in the episode commentary.

Bryan: “It's sort of a self-referential joke. Whenever you do a animated show, they usually want to cast, uh, women...who are, like, in their thirties to play boys, because you never know how long the show is gonna go on, and, you know, as Jack mentioned earlier, boys' voices start cracking.” (source)

Wow, imagine that! An inside joke about the cartoon industry in a show’s meta-episode dedicated to making fun of itself? Impossible!

I’m serious though. The episode transcript is right here. Point me to where exactly there is even the slightest hint of anyone bringing up Aang’s culture and tying his childish behavior to it.

That’s right; it isn’t there. Because that wasn’t the point. Aang’s anger did stem from feeling emasculated, but it had nothing to do with culture and everything to do with his own misogynistic attitudes. He was offended at his portrayal on an individual level. I’m not denying that the issue of oppressive nations using femininity as an insult against men of colonized nations is a very real issue, but that was never a theme present in this episode. We don’t see Aang expressing anger towards the Fire Nation, nor do we see him mention anything about culture. What we see is Aang, individually, feeling insulting that his actor is female and Aang being angry at Katara, individually, because the play suggested she felt more attracted to Zuko than him.

Trying to downplay Aang’s behavior and suggest we coddle him despite his atrocious treatment of Katara is a disingenuous reading of the episode.

Why are you reaching to make an excuse for Aang when if you’re really taking the “the point of the episode is that the play is racially demeaning the characters” angle…and why are you not bringing up Sokka? He’s portrayed as a dumb oaf who is always talking about eating meat. There is a much stronger argument to be made there about caricatures, but Sokka isn’t threatening anyone’s ship so apparently nobody cares.

And while we’re talking about caricatures, how about this crap?

Sorry, Aang stans, but this show and Aang’s character aren’t the enlightened portrayals of anti-colonialism and groundbreaking activism you think they are. It’s pretty clear from the context and the episode itself what the intention here was. It is poorly aged comedy from the early 2000s written by white Americans. And we will continue to critique that, thanks.

[a-ikuoliver]

────────⌕ SEARCH: IO/KATSUKI-BAKUGOU

updated 11th june 2024

masterlist • archive of our own • wip updates • my kofi please bear in mind all my works will be female/femme reader & remember to check the warnings

worship me | nsfw 18+ | 2.9k — 26/04/2022 *originally posted to gwen0m

summary: an unforgettable autumn night at your private catholic college when Father Bakugo approaches you after late-night studying at the church’s library. warnings: noncon, unprotected vaginal sex, blasphemy, manipulation, dacryphilia, corrupt priest, breeding & threatening

before he cheats | implied nsfw 18+ | 1.8k — 11/08/2022

summary: hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and god, does it turn a man on with that fire in your eyes and bat swinging in your hand, ready to key the car of the man who wronged you. warnings: feminine pronouns/nicknames/descriptions, fantasising, mentions of weapons (bat, knife), bakugou gets horny over crazy girls

what's your favourite scary movie? | nsfw 18+ | 4.9k — 03/11/2023

summary: finally convincing one of your best friends to come to the 30th anniversary re-release of scream, he figures out one of your best-kept secrets. warnings: femme reader (called girl, has a pussy, wears makeup n a skirt), death threat kinda lmao, public & unprotected sex, blood mention, knife mention, reader implied to be recon/stealth hero, not beta’d bc i got nervous and we die like men, this is like all lead up my b

do something, babe, say something | angst | 2.0k — 09/11/2023

summary: you tell katsuki bakugou you love him for the first time warnings: gn!reader, miscommunication, self sacrifice

wired | nsfw 18+ | 9.3k — 15/12/2023

summary: honing your kickboxing skills with pro hero dynamight can lead to a) insane improvements of your skills, becoming the best version of yourself with each critique you get, b) a crush like no other you’ve ever had in your life, or c) all of the above? warnings: fem!reader (“girl”, “cunt”, “pussy” used) slight age gap but not a main plot point, a lil bit of violence, making out, brattish reader, choking (ish), hair pulling, dry humping, slight edging, public sex, unprotected sex, implied use of birth control

bad enough for you | nsfw 18+ | 4.0k — 15/01/2024

summary: bathrooms at house parties are only made for one thing warnings:  fem!reader (has a pussy, wearing makeup + skirt), established relationship, toxic relationship, cheating, alcohol mention (tipsy sex), blood/biting/marking/cutting mention, unprotected sex, degradation/name calling (not really but just in case), hair pulling, fingering (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving)

like a girl does | nsfw 18+ | 6.7k — 19/02/2024

summary: you're finally being introduced to your girlfriend's friends, invited to a last minute party, any confidence melting from you when you see another girl clinging to her arm. warnings: fauxcest (bakugou referred to as your step sister/sister), dubcon, bakugou is TOXIC, feminine/girly reader (she/her pronouns; wearing makeup; nails + a dress; long hair/out/on her face), reader referred to as a puppy (degradingly not petplay lmao), pet names (pretty + baby), emotional manipulation, cheating (on reader, implied to be with ochako but not overtly), alcohol + weed mention, reader a lillll bit of a crybaby, public/car sex, oral (r! receiving)

fantasise | nsfw 18+ | 1.5k — 20/04/2024

summary: katsuki sees your sex toys once and is haunted by what you look like using them. warning/s: m! & f!masturbation, sex toys, fantasising

god is a freak | nsfw 18+ | 2.8k — 11/07/2024

summary: god is a bit of a freak, why's he watching me getting railed on the couch, staying pure for a wedding, he's got fucked up priorities — aka an ancient, obsolete god of fertility hears your prayer warning/s: fertility god!bakugou, f!reader, voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), references to sex rituals and safe sex lmao, i think that's everything, mostly lead up

bakugou helping you out when your piercing gets stuck — 11/12/2022

kiri n bakugou, under v overstimulation [nsfw] — 16/11/2022

katsuki watching a rabbit review [nsfw] — 27/10/2023

lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off — 14/11/2023

"make me" [nsfw] — 06/12/2023

if katsuki ever lost his memory — 12/12/2023

sleeping with bakugou — 24/12/2023

big brother bakugou [nsfw] — 11/01/2024

valentine’s day — 09/02/2024

childhood best friends — 23/03/2024

teasing him [nsfw]— 09/04/2024

katsuki bakugou + strawberry daiquiri — 26/04/2024

katsuki bakugou + jagerbomb [nsfw] — 27/04/2024

katsuki bakugou + bloody mary [nsfw] — 27/04/2024

katsuki bakugou + cosmopolitan — 05/05/2024

sirens call — 09/05/2024

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[mysouleaten]

WHY YOU!? NOT ME!?

PLATONIC! takemichi x teen! reader

summary... takemichi thought the letter from the philippines was from manjiro sano but instead of him it was his daughter..

warnings... angst, hurt/no comfort, death, manila timeline, name is jealous of takemichi, mentions of blood, guns, mention of child neglect, teen!reader

an... this is my first time writing angst so bear with me! lol

takemichi stood in front of the broken and abandoned building

he lets out a shaky breath and ventures into the building with one goal in mind to find mikey

takemichi hoped over a crumbled ledge 'this will be the first time ill see mikey's future self!'

he then took the broken stairs that had metal rods poking out from the bottom and littered trash on top, 'I wonder how he turned out? maybe he hasn't changed..'

takemichi pants from all this climbing and walking he had to do, he rubbed his sweat away from his forehead "these ruins are huge!"

'... when I meet him.. what will I even say..?'

takemichi didn't even realize how this meeting would be a huge mistake for him in the near future...

"takemichi?.."

takemichi whipped his head around to the sound of his name being called

mikey- ..no someone else was sitting on a large scrap pile, looking at him with a sad smile on their lips

"mikey?" takemichi asked hesitantly

the teen[!?] in front of him gave out a light laugh, yeah.. that wasn't mikey, whoever this was, looked, like mikey but much more feminine. she shared the same empty dark eyes and had somewhat of the same facial features as mikey..

"are you.. takemitchy hanagaki..?" she tilted her head to the side and spoke with a soft-spoken voice, ..he almost missed it

he swallowed the saliva that had built up in his mouth and answered "yes..that's me- but..uh its 'takemichi' "

her frown turned back into that light smile "really? dad always calls you 'takemitchy' "

takemichi's eyebrows raise in shock "dad?"

she hummed "yeah.. manjiro ..manjiro sano?"

takemichi started to tear up and quickly rubbed them away with his wrist, he didn't want to cry in front of mikey's kid.. ugh why was he so emotional from seeing her?... was it because she looked a lot like him..?

she rested her cheek against the palm of her hand and kept that same soft smile "huh, you really are the crybaby that my father described, haha"

the way she had said it wasn't one of mockery but admiration

"don't worry, me and you share that-- being a lot more sensitive, I would always cry over little things too" she mentioned

takemichi blicked a couple of times--almost cartoony-like-- and he lightly chucked at that fact

but her light smile that held warmth faded away into a frown much like mikey's.. they just looked so alike..

" I brought you here to stop my dad from getting you to do him a 'favor' " she spoke in a gloomy tone

"a- a favor?" takemichi questioned

she didn't elaborate on this 'favor' she got up and stood upon the scrap pile-- the light from above shown down onto her and a jingle from her red and black hanafuda earrings that he only now noticed

"my dad is still in japan, with my uncle.. I was the one who wrote you that letter to get you to come here"

"huh?! why? what wa-" takemichi was stumbling over his words and failed to notice how the younger sano had made her way right in front of him with a heavy frown

she stood tall in front of him with her hands in the pockets of her black pants, she gave him a nasty glare

from this glare alone takemichi shivered, the younger sano glared at him like he had done a horrible sin

takemichi wanted to shout, he wanted his answers answered! he wanted to know if mikey really killed mitsuya! he wanted to know why he-!

the younger sano grabbed a fist full of the front of his shirt and slammed him down onto the dirt below, crouching over him, with her knee slammed into his stomach he wheezed from the air getting knocked out of him so harshly. takemichi guessed that [he doesn't even know mikey's kid's name..] strength was mikeys genes passed down to this sano... damn! that hurt.. !!

takemichi finally comprehends that a gun has been shoved against his cheek in a threatening matter

"WHY ARE YOU ACTING SO- SO OBLIVIOUS!? LIKE YOU AREN'T THE PROBLEM!??" she yelled in his face, this was a complete one-eighty of her personality

takemichi's eyes filled up with tears and he looked away from her and saw a gun lying in reach

she looked towards the direction of the gun before looking back at him and digging the gun farther into his face-- he winces at this

"you gonna kill me? grab that gun and shoot me before I blow your damn brains out" the sanos voice lowered

takemichi didn't even realize he had his eyes shut tight before he opened them. the feeling of droplets falling onto his face

he looked up into the dark eyes of the younger sano, they were filled with so many tears, and more fell onto his face

"you- you.." she hiccuped "why the hell ..does my dad have so much admiration for you..?"

"huh? why are you so.. special to him!?" she shoved the gun harsher into his cheek

"why- why.. couldn't he look at me like that?.. why does he hold more love for you! then me!!" she blurted out "what did you do for him? huh!? you- you left him!.. you-I.."

takemichi couldn't say anything to the crying teen above him, those empty eyes showed the broken sadness within

"please lets.. lets ta-"

BANG

BANG!

BANG!!

the younger sano fell over when blood had splattered onto takemichi's face

the gun falling out of her hands

"are you ok!?? takemichi!!? did mikey hurt you?!" naoto yelled while holding his own hands on his gun

takemichi looked over at him with shock and then whipped his head to the side to see the younger sanos body on her side with three defined bullet holes, blood soaking her white sweater

"sano!!" takemichi screamed as he leaped to hold up her body from the dirty ground, "takemich! don't go near..him..?"

naoto paused from running to takemichi and looked at the person who takemichi was trying to stop the blood from escaping their body

naoto's heart dropped at the sight of...a teen.. in takemichi's arms. naoto then had looked down at the gun that he assumed manjiro sano was holding... the lock safety was active..

naoto felt sick..and dizzy..

"sano! sano!!" takemichi screamed, holding the younger sanos cooling body.. he looked at his blood-soaked hands and clutched the sano's body close while screaming with agony

she violently coughed up blood that is filling her throat "t-takemitchy..? can..can I call you that..?"

"yes, yes..sure! sano..oh my god.." takemichi cried, his hot tears spilling from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks and onto the younger sanos forehead

takemichi shakenly brushed away the tears from her forehead, smudging blood into her hair in the process

"e-everything is going to be o-ok! sano-"

"[name].. that's m-my name.. please c-call me that.." she coughed

takemichi finally got to find out mikey's daughter's name... he just wished it was in a better circumstances..

"okay.. [name]- im so..so sorry..I can't- I can't stop the blood..!"

she gave out a quiet laugh "why ..are you so w-worried about me..?"

takemichi couldn't answer that...

"the..'favor' m-my dad want..ed from you.. was to kill him" [name] shakenly explained

takemich's breath hitched, "he.. killed- cough! -  all the old..members of t-toman.. he w-wanted it all to 'end' .. he was going to leave me...takemitchy.. I didn't want.. him to leave me.. I-I.."

she coughed again making her body shake in pain in his hands

"shhhh..shh.." takemichi cradled the crying sano in his arms, rocking her gently back and forth

"I-I thought.. if..if I could kill you you would..n't be able to k-kill my dad! and m-maybe..maybe he would focus a-all his attention on me!.. and-and.."

"shhh.. it's ok.. it's ok.." takemichi whispered and hugged her body closer resting his cheek on the top of her head still rocking her gently back and forth

she used her last strength to clutch the front of takemichi's shirt for comfort before sobbing, hiccuping, and coughing blood onto him

"takemitchy..your hand is.. so warm...."

.

.

.

"[name]?? [name].. please.. answer me" takemichi sobbed

taglist ... @kokoch4n3l

:D soooo...? uh how was that? did I do a good job at writing angst? ngl this DRAINED me to write lol, maybe ill just stick to fluff

anyway did you guys catch any easter eggs in my story? ig their kinda of like parallels ??? i dunno how to name them..

[romanarose]

Happy St. Patick's Day, Darl'n

DBF!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Previous part here: Presidents Day

Summary: Joel and you navigate dating. Oh and you get drunk.

Warnings: Drinking, getting DRUNK drunk. Feelings (ew) big old age gap (2X age), mild jealous but communicating, crybaby reader. Daddy dom Joel. Joel has insecuritues but he loves reader. Reader tryna smash.

Immersivity: Reader is fem reader is 21+, dresses very feminine. Drinks and celebrates chritian holidays, not neccecarily is christian but like family and culturaly. Major age gap. Big girthy age gap. Joel can pick up reader and is taller than her. Mentions of hair with bows.

A/n: this header screams "graphic design is my passion" LMFAOOOOOO

1.1k words

“WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” You shout loudly on the street, green beer in your hand. Joel was patiently trying to get you to come home. You and him had taken a tad bit of a risk, coming out in public together but you had decided as long as you keep things chaste, you could always tell anyone who spots you both that you had ran into each other and stuck around. Problem was, now that you were drunk, your hands were wandering and Joel couldn’t lie his way out of the way you were pinching his ass.

“C’mon, hon, let’s get you home.” He tries to judge you, but the way your eyes light up makes him think you have other plans.

“Lets go to Tommy’s party!!!!”

This made Joel laugh out loud. “It’s 3 pm and you’re drunk. You’re going to be hung out by the evening already.”

“So I keep drinking and then I’ll never get hung over!” You were wearing a cute green dress and green ribbons in your hair, making you look as adorable as ever and as much as he would love to take you to Tommy and make him watch him finger you on his lap, pretty little dress spread… you needed water and bedtime. 

Joel was matching you in color only, and even that was a stretch. While you wore sea green with little flowers on your dress, Joel wore his dark green flannel. He thought you were such a mismatched couple, some of his insecurity seeped through. Seeing a girl as beautiful as you out with an old man like him… Sometimes he wondered if you were better with someone younger. Still, Joel had a good time with you. He liked watching you smile and dance, lighting up the world around you and lighting up his day.

You begin to wave down the bartender, but Joel places his hands firmly on your shoulders. “Now baby, you listen to your daddy.” He whispers in your ear so only you could hear. Your body language instantly relaxes, slipping into sub space with only a few words. “I’m going to take your home, and you are going to nap, understand?”

“Yes daddy.” You’d had fun for close to 5 hours now. It was time for his girl to get some rest.

Joel paid the hefty tab of overpriced themed drinks without a boink, left a nice tip, and then ushered you out the door.

*

Back in the comfort of your apartment, Joel was making you drink water in the kitchen as you giggled looking at your phone with a squinty eye.

“What’re yuh laughing about, sweet girl?”

“Nothing, baby, just Tommy.”

Joel stopped. Turned around. “You’re texting Tommy?”

It wasn’t that you were talking to his brother. Tommy had fucked you… but Joel was the first to admit he was a jealous man and Tommy… well, Tommy never had issues getting girls, and was a few years younger. 

“Yeah!” You show him a picture Tommy sent at his party. “See his shirt? Isn’t it funny?” Tommy wore the same shirt he’d worn since the 90’s on saint patrick's day, his Green Day shirt. Tommy lived for when people said he isn’t wearing green and he can point to the Green on his shirt. Dumbass. The shirt was falling apart, showing his skin in the rips. Maybe Joel should let him know that he was actually dating you now, and you weren’t fair game.

“It’s… so funny, baby.” When he looked up, he saw your little lip quivering and your eyes filling with water. “No, baby, don’t-” but it was too late, you were sobbing. Since dating you, actually dating you, he’d realized how true it was when your dad said you were an emotional girl. You cried… a lot. But that was okay, Joel didn’t mind helping you pick the pieces up again. He’d guard your heart for you.

“I’m s–s-s-o-r-r-yyyyyy!!”

“Oh, darl’n, c’mere” Joel pulls you into his strong safe arms. “Why’re yuh cry’n? I ain’t mad.”

“I was texting Tommy!”

You let you cry for a moment, then picked you up and sat you on his counter. Firm but gentle, he took your face in his hands. “Look at me now, pretty girl.” He waited until your sad eyes met his. “You don’t gotta apologize for that.”

“It’s just friendly, I promise!”

“It’s alri-”

“He’s your brother and I care about you so I care about your family!”

Joel squeezed your cheeks until you stopped talking, his eyes intense on yours. “I don’t care that you’re texting Tommy. I watched him fuck you, and he’s known you as long as I have. I trust you, and if you want to have sex with him again, I know you’ll just talk to me.” Letting go, Joel kissed your lips, tasting the frilly alcohol. “You’re mine.” He thumbed a stray tear away.

You look up at him, still a little stressed. “I’ve been accused of cheating. A lot. I never ever have! Ever!”

“I believe you.”

“It’s just… other guys… if I didn’t want to have sex or spent too much time with my friends or family or was laughing at my phone and… I dunno… I might be a little defensive…”

Joel did not like that one bit. “Darl’n, I’m sorry that happened.” He took your face in his large hands. “I ain’t ever gonna make you feel bad for not wanting to have sex, and I love that you have great friends and family. I happen to like your family a lot too.” He winks, a nod to how you met. “And I’m glad Tommy makes you laugh, because I like watching you laugh. ‘M sorry for acting grumpy.”

Finally you smiled again, reaching your arms up. “I like that you’re grumpy. My grumpy old man.”

Joel swatted your ass and called you a brat.

*

“JOOOOOOEEEELLL!!!” You whine in bed, kissing him and grinding yourself against his hip. Although he gave you sweet kisses, he kept pulling your hands away your you tried to undo his belt. “Come oooooooon!!!”

“Nuh-uh” He said firmly. “You were about to pass out while I brushed your teeth. Go to bed, I’ll fuck you when you’re not drunk off you ass.” Although judging how much you dran

You begin sobbing again. He didn’t even know if you knew why this time.

“Oohhhhh no.” Joel chastises, but pulls you onto him so he could hold you. “None of that. Hush now…. Hush…” Joel rubs your back in your soft warm PJ’s. 3 seconds later, you’re snoring on top of him.

“Happy St. Patrick's Day, Darl’n”

COMMUNICATION IS IMPORTANT!!!

I'm watching love is blind and... jesus Christ XD

up next is technically easter but im kinda starkly aware we've established reader celebrated christian holidays and im like what if i spice it up? what if their friend invited them to purim? bc I love Purim and i wanna see Joel in a costume LMFAOOOO

love you guys!!!!

@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @mrs-oharaxx @pedge-page @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring

[aemndxx]

𝓇.cameron. ┆ 10:51pm.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ idk wha' dis is… but enjoy, angels ♡ྀི ‧ ₊˚

ok but jus' imagine you're bein' a whiny, needy crybaby for your boyfriend rafe, pushing at his buzzed head between your silky, spread-out thighs with both of your dainty, freshly manicured hands, cutely pouting out a "i'm too sleepy, dad!" and then rafe just rolls his eyes, continuing his way up as he sloppily trails kisses between your smooth, inner thighs and being like, "then sleep; dad jus' wants a lil' taste of his princess, yea?" he coos mockingly, before he begins mouthing between your wet, puffy folds, tasting your sweet, creamy juices and humming deeply with pleasure at your taste.

"yea... that's right, baby," rafe murmurs against the heat of your soaked cunny, inhaling your femininity eagerly, feeling his cock throbbing inside of his boxers. rafe keeps his lust-blown eyes on your pretty, flustered face, a lazy smirk curling up at the corners of his kiss-swollen lips as he licks up every drop of sweetness you have to offer, using the flat of his tongue to kiss and lick and suck at your little exposed cunny, humming in pure delight.

"yeah, a'ight, reaaal sleepy—huh, kid?" he teases you, his steel blue eyes narrowed and darkening with sin, something twisted and sinister shining through—and fuck, you taste so goddamn perfect to him, his gaze practically taunting you as he can feel you dripping for him, listening to you as you mewl out his name repeatedly, your voice sleepy and whiny and needy for rafe, for your daddy.

[notnights]

Thinking about Jax's level of assholery doesn't reach to disrespecting Zooble's gender identity.

Before questions: Zooble is gender-non-conforming, we don't know a specific gender label for them at the moment (aka if they identify as something like, non-binary, genderqueer, or agender, etc) but is okay with any pronouns.

Some how related trivia: in the spanish dub for the pilot, when Jax refers to Gangle as "crybaby," he originally said "lloron." While sometimes the "masculine" version of a noun can be used in "default," as gender neutral it's not a common practice. This caused a lot of confusion about Gangle's gender among spanish viewers. This line was later redubbed and corrected to "llorona."

If this correction hadn't been made one could say spanish dub Jax would've reached a whole new level of assholery by misgendering Gangle, or at best making a snide comment about her non-feminine appearance.

[basu-shokikita]

Kloktober 2024 Day 9

Use someone's parents

I was initially not going to do today's entry but I realized couldn't miss the chance to address Skwisgaar's issues with Servetta. Or, well, one of many I suppose.

Thank you Servetta for helping create this deeply traumatized guitarist that I love!

Skwisgaar walked into the classroom. He could notice the eyes on him, and it made him apprehensive, but he didn’t want to show it. Instead, he just sat in his usual seat at the end of the left, right by the window. 

A group of girls whispered nearby him, and clearly they weren’t being quiet enough because he could still hear them. 

“My mom said his mom is…a disgusting person.” One of them said.

“Yeah, my parents told me not to talk to him.” Another replied.

“I think she tried to sleep with one of the teachers!” A third girl said. 

“No way!”

“Yeah, Ebba told me!”

“Ew, then he shouldn’t even be here!”

Skwisgaar glared at the girls and they stopped, pretending to look away. As soon as he laid his eyes off them they started whispering again, except this time he couldn’t hear them anymore.

He watched the snowfall out of the window, wiping his eyes before the tears had a chance to drop. He didn’t need to add ‘crybaby’ to the rumors about him and his mother. 

Not when so many of them were true, anyway.

–

A group of boys ran away when they saw Skwisgaar coming. Laughing and stealing glances at him, they disappeared into the crowd in the hallway. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened, so when Skwisgaar reached his locker, he wasn’t exactly shocked.

There were scribbles all over it, insults to him, his mother, crass jokes, obscene drawings. Pretty much the usual stuff. He was a little surprised when a postcard came flying out when he opened his locker, though.

It was a picture of his mother from the 1956 Miss Sweden contest. Someone had drawn nipples and a bush over her bodysuit and written on the side: “I came to this picture 100 times last night. And you, Skwisgaar?”

“Oh, my God, that’s horrible!” A feminine voice said and Skwisgaar turned in her direction. 

It was Hilda, the appointed nice girl of her class. She had shoulder-length black hair and big auburn eyes and was staring at his locker with horror. Or, wait, was her name Helga?

“Eh, I’m used to it.” Skwisgaar said, tossing the postcard into the nearest trash can. 

“It’s still terrible.” Hilda or Helga replied with her arms crossed and a judgemental look. Skwisgaar noticed that there was a girl by her side. She was biting down her lip, like she wanted to say something.

Skwisgaar knew that look damn well.

“Is it true your mom slept with Erik from 9th grade?”

“Krista!” Her friend scolded her.

“What? You wanted to know too!”

“What are you-”

“Probably.” Skwisgaar closed his locker with a slam, startling the girls. “I don’t really care.” He turned his backs on them and walked away. 

It was always the same.

–

“Dude, Skwisgaar.” 

“Yeugh?” Skwisgaar raised his eyes from his guitar. He was tuning up by the ear.

“You told me you didn’t have a mom, dude.” Matthew said. He was the curly-haired vocalist of the American band Skwisgaar was currently part of  and he was a constantly smoking weed. 

“Uh, ja.” 

“Well, I looked you up last night, dude. Since you said you were famous in Sweden…why didn’t you tell me your mom was a total hottie? I would’ve so banged her!”

“What? Show me the pics!” Rick, the drummer, yelled from the other side of the room.

“I wanna see too!” The bassist, whose name was something like Ryan, joined Matthew on the couch. “Woah, no way!”

“Yeah, dude…”

“That’s one hot slut!” Rick exclaimed, peeking at the phone from behind the other two.

As he watched his bandmates fawn over what were presumably pictures of his mother, Skwisgaar was reminded of a feeling he thought he had left behind just like his hometown. 

That ugly, ugly discomfort when people spoke about his mother. Made him feel so powerless and vulnerable, even though it wasn’t on him.

Even though none of it was on him.

–

“Yeah, I heard of you.” One greasy manager told him, slinging an arm around Skwisgaar’s shoulder. 

He was at the New Year party of a big label. He had been invited by one of his ex-bandmates because he briefly replaced the guitarist of one of the bands they represented and he would never turn down free alcohol and drugs. 

The only downside was the annoying people that acted familiar with him. Like this jack off.

“Skwisgaar Skwigelf, right?” He said, with a drunk breath. He was a middle aged man, his gray hair slicked back and wearing a couple of sunglasses even though it was night. “Your reputation precedes you.”

“Eugh, rights…” Skwisgaar said, already annoyed by the proximity of the man. He hated when people got on his face like that. Unless they were floozies, of course.

“I actually worked in Sweden some years ago.” The man continued. “Your mom was a total sensation back then.” 

“Ja, she was a bits ofs a celekbrities…” Skwisgaar said with disinterest, mildly relieved the conversation was just boring, rather than uncomfortable. 

The man leaned in to whisper into Skwisgaar’s ear. “They say she slept her way to the top…” He placed his hand on Skwisgaar’s waist. “What about you?”

Infuriated, Skwisgaar shoved him away and left, gripping the drink in his hand.

“Hey!” He heard the man call him. “I was just joking, come back!”

There it was again.

That feeling he had worked so hard to abandon.

He hated it.

–

“What ams this?” Their latest addition, Toki, had been snooping around Skwisgaar’s stuff for a while. He was a bit like a child, excited over everything and constantly asking questions. He reminded Skwisgaar of an overstimulated dog. 

“Mmh?” Skwisgaar kept fretting mindlessly and Toki showed him a magazine with himself on the cover. “Oh, dat ams and olds thingks…when I was just gettingks starts…”

Toki paged through the magazine, searching for the Skwisgaar article. “Founds it! Buts I can’ts reads anyt’ings…” He sounded dejected.

“Dats woulds be because it ams in skwedish.” Skwisgaar said, still playing. 

“Waits! It shouldn’ts be thats hard…” Toki squinted at the text. “En…kommande…gita-gitarr? Gittartala- Oh, it ams too hards!” He started looking at the pictures instead. “Wowee! Why ams dat a pages rippeds of?”

Skwisgaar flinched unwillingly. “Eugh…it has somethingks I didn’ts wanna sees…ja.”

Toki tilted his head, awaiting more information and Skwisgaar swallowed heavily.

“It, was, eugh, my moms.” He tried to say casually.

“Oh…”

The pace of Skwisgaar’s playing increased unconsciously. He closed his eyes, feeling his body tense up, his heart rate picking up. 

…But nothing happened.

Confused, he glanced at Toki, who kept inspecting the magazine with curiosity. “So cool…” He whispered in awe at some picture of teenager Skwisgaar posing with a guitar.

“Yous not goignks to ask abouts dat?”

“Whys?” Toki turned the magazine upside down, confused. “I donts gets this…” There was a cryptic illustration on the page. 

“Because it ams my moms?!” Skwisgaar asked, in disbelief. 

Toki’s stupidly innocent eyes laid on Skwisgaar. “Buts you donts wants to talks about it.” He said as if it were obvious.

“W-Well, ja, buts everyones always-”

“Parents ams hard.” Toki said, and it was like the naivety had left his face suddenly. “And…we ams not thems.” His eyes were hard, as if he wasn’t just talking to Skwisgaar anymore.

Come to think of it, Toki hadn’t really talked about his parents either, had he?

And, instead of the discomfort Skwisgaar had grown used to over the years, he felt something different. Something he hadn’t felt since he was a child, since his mother cradled him in her arms and sang lullabies for him. 

He smiled, embracing the sentiment. “You ams wise for a littol snot-nosed brats, heuh?”

“Ams not a brats!”

Skwisgaar chuckled with fondness. “Thanks you, Toki.”

Toki blinked, scatterbrained as ever. “Whats for?”

Without replying, Skwisgaar looked out of the window. The snowfall was inclement as ever.

But things weren't the same anymore.

[apparently-artless]

this series made me realize how lucky i am to have an understanding family. i can totally relate to the main character. i don't like feminine stuff even though i was born female.

when i was around five, my mom made me wear a one-piece swimsuit. my family was gushing over how adorable i was, but wearing it only made me uncomfortable, so i started crying. my mother later on noticed that i didn't really like what other girls would typically like so she stopped buying me "girly" stuff. she never bought me dolls, i would only receive such gifts from other people. she never bought dresses or skirts. i only ever wore skirts as part of our uniform when i was in grade school and high school. she would also allow me to use my older brother's hand-me-down clothes. and instead of giving me ladies' shoes, she gave me rubber shoes as her graduation gift. and when we were out shopping for clothes, she would directly go to men's clothing if ever i wanted to buy shirts (she also knows how much i hate wearing blouses xd).

my entire family is supportive of what i wanted and they don't impose what's supposed to be "normal". when my oldest sister tried putting makeup on my face when i was in third grade (it was a special occasion), i started crying (again, lol I'm such a crybaby) and then my father told her to just let me be. my other sister's in charge of choosing clothes for me because i don't know anything about fashion. she knows what i like and what style i am comfortable wearing. when it is necessary to wear formal dresses, i leave it to my sisters to choose the most comfortable dress they could find for me.

and this right here... i'm pretty sure there are still people out there who thinks like this. fortunately, not in our family. we were raised by our parents to learn how to do household chores regardless of our gender. if one knows how to cook, and so are the others. we don't divide household chores based on gender. if I can cook, so can my brothers. if I can iron my own clothes, so can my brothers. and yes, my father did household chores when he was still alive and he's also hands-on when it comes to taking care of us. when it comes to school events, this is how my parents divide their time: school events for boys will be attended by my mother, and school events for girls will be attended by my father. i think it's pretty cute. i really am lucky to have cool parents like them. ^^

i've yet to read the manga but so far, the story is pretty interesting. it's very relatable and depicts things close to reality. i was already emotional watching the first episode. i am looking forward to watching the rest of the episodes. i do hope the manga will publish an official English translation because I don't think the anime can cover the entirety of this series in one season.