#someone teach her how to bind properly

[tinnedmarlin]

i’m so obsessed with mullet madjack v2

[ekkkkey]

vestal (chapter I)

summary: Livia, a young Vestal Virgin, is bound to Vesta’s eternal flame and the vow of sacred duty. In Rome, it’s common knowledge; touch a Vestal, and the wrath of the gods will descend upon you. But what if someone dares to defy that rule?

warnings: 18+ minors dni, dubcon, violence, blood

tags: caracalla is a freak, darkfic, no softboys here

word count: ~3k

"No vow of chastity or sacred duty could restrain him who deemed himself a god, for he believed himself above the laws that bind mere mortals."

-Decimus Rufus, Gods Among Men: The Erosion of Roman Law.

ৡ ৡ ৡ

"This is wrong!" Livia protested, though her outrage came more from personal feeling than from a desire to argue with her mentor. "There are countless priests for that!"

Caesonia, her sworn sister, was ten years older, but always so gentle and easy to talk to that Livia could be honest with her. As long as no one else found out.

"You know how things are," Caesonia said, her voice flat with boredom as she absentmindedly smoothed an invisible wrinkle on her snow-white tunic, making it clear that the matter was settled. "The emperors want to win back the people’s love, and what does the crowd love more than the games?"

"Let them win it without us! Only love for the immortal gods and my homeland make me happy, not mortals who crave power over everything!" She didn’t even understand why she was so passionately opposed, but she couldn’t hold back her fiery outburst.

"Careful, sister," Caesonia warned, her brow furrowing. "You speak of sacred love, but the fathers of Rome are sacred too. Besides, love comes in many forms. Doesn’t love for your family, your loved ones, mean anything to you?"

Livia flinched, her gray eyes drifting into the distance, her lips trembling.

"I don’t know that kind of love," she replied quietly. "I loved my father, my sisters, but that love doesn’t compare to what I feel for the great teachings of Vesta. My father, my mother, my sister—they’re all gone, gone forever, and the gods are eternal. Immortal."

Caesonia sighed deeply, rising from her seat. She tucked her chestnut curls behind her ears and walked over to Livia, gently taking her hands and looking straight into her eyes.

"You didn’t grieve properly, I understand…"

"I don’t need grief," Livia cut in quickly, though her voice trembled. The older Vestal always said Livia was too emotional and fiery. "I only need repentance and service."

"Then serve! The Emperor is the embodiment of Jupiter, Rome itself. And now we have two of them—twice the work, right?" she giggled. Livia, giving in, smiled in response. "Or should I say, the embodiment of Romulus and Remus?"

They were alike in one thing only—both greedy children, far from the greatness of their famed ancestors. And yet, they’re emperors, which makes them the fathers of all living in Rome.

Livia didn’t love the world of mortals, didn’t like leaving the villa or the temple, just as she didn’t enjoy being in large crowds. Until now, the emperors had cared little for the Vestals. They had always dealt with uprisings and discontent with bloodshed, needing no help from them. But now… everything had changed.

The famous and beloved Lucilla, daughter of the late Emperor Marcus Aurelius, had adopted the current emperors, showing her favor. Why and for what, no one knew, and even if they did, they wouldn’t say, knowing how the emperors dealt with loose tongues.

Lucilla was now their mother, General Acacius was replaced by Fulvius Plautianus, who had served under Septimius Severus and was known for his brutal temper, and the Senate was filled with all kinds of scoundrels and sycophants. Livia, like the other Vestals, did not involve herself in politics, but she knew a lot, listening to the gossip of the wives of high-ranking officials who came to make offerings.

"Offer a prayer to Vesta, to Jupiter, anoint yourself with sacred blood, and the priest will tell them what they so desperately want to hear," Caesonia continued. "Then the games will pass, and we’ll return to the temple. It’s an honor, Livia, not a punishment. You’re young, not even fully trained, and yet you drew the lot!"

She really had drawn the short straw when it came time for her and the other sisters to decide who would make a sacrifice to the gods.

"Rituals should remain sacred," Livia replied, less confidently now, not really expecting an answer.

ৡ ৡ ৡ

The first day of the games marked the start of autumn, right in the midst of the festival season, and the city hummed with excitement. The last games had been only recently, but after a string of executions, deaths, and tortures, people were desperate for something lighter. And really, what’s more entertaining than watching someone else die?

Draped in a flowing, snow-white tunic, Livia walked alongside the other Vestals, surrounded by stern-faced Praetorian guards, as they arrived at the Colosseum just as the sun hit its peak, bathing everything in blinding white light.

The crowd showered them with lilies and narcissus, desperate for a glimpse of the sacred priestesses. There were five of them—the sixth had stayed behind to tend the sacred fire. Usually, that was Livia’s role, but today, her duty was different.

She couldn’t hide her awe at the sight before her—flowers scattered everywhere, a roaring sea of people, thousands of voices merging into one. As they passed through the gates and reached the stands, she noticed the shift. These weren’t the same poor and desperate souls who had thrown flowers at her feet. Here, the crowd was wealthier, brighter, draped in a riot of colors and excessive finery.

To her displeasure, Livia understood that in this sea of bright hues and mixed fashions, there was a lack of respect for Roman customs, a disregard encouraged by the emperors, who, by all accounts, dressed quite unusually themselves.

"Over here, Livia," a priest, old and dry as parchment, took her hand, gently pulling her away from the others as they hurried to their designated seats. She turned her head, watching them go.

From a distance, their small platform gleamed—four pristine white figures, dazzling against the chaos of color. It made her smile.

The priest’s grip was light, his skin thin and fragile. He was the only man allowed to touch the Vestals, for he himself was not a man in the eyes of the people, but a vessel of the divine.

When they led her onto the arena floor, the sun blinded her. A thin white veil covered her face, a flower crown resting on her head, and beyond the sheer fabric, the world was hazy. She barely saw the thousands of faces watching her, barely heard the deafening roar of the crowd. Only the scorching heat of the sand beneath her bare feet felt real.

The drums beat. The noise swelled. The herald called out—she didn’t hear what he said. Instead, she lifted her face toward the sun, whispering a prayer under her breath, over and over.

"It is time, child," the priest said, removing her crown and veil. Her dark hair tumbled down over her shoulders, but her gaze remained fixed on the sky. That’s where her true audience watched.

A primal, animalistic scream made her flinch. She finally lowered her face and looked around. Through the central gates leading to the arena, they brought in a massive white bull. The beast was so enormous that six burly men, their faces hidden behind golden masks, struggled to hold it.

The majestic creature tossed its horned head and bellowed loudly, frightened by the crowd. She was scared too, but she didn’t move. Instead, she took the crown from the priest’s hands, waiting as they led the bull closer.

"Behold our sacrifice, Jupiter!" the priest calls loudly, not in the voice of an old man, raising his hands to the sky. Several young boys are gathered nearby, holding a cup and a crooked bronze dagger.

They lead the bull to the center of the arena, forcing it to bow its head, tightening the thick cords around its neck. The animal freezes. Livia does, too, staring directly into its frightened black eyes. Its horns are coated in gold to honor the gods, so with each turn of its neck, they gleam and shimmer.

Slowly, she takes a few steps forward, and the stands fall silent, the rumble quiets, and the drums cease.

Such beauty, such strength—all for the glory of the gods. They love beauty, and they love when the blood of such magnificent creatures is spilled in their name. Back when human sacrifices were still allowed, beautiful, innocent youths and maidens were offered to the gods. Livia only tilted her head in sympathy, silently thanking the animal.

"In ancient times, I could have been in your place."

Her hands tremble slightly, but not from fear; it’s the solemnity of the moment. She was wrong to resist, wrong to argue with her mentor, because now she is living the best moment of her young life.

The black eyes meet hers, gray, and she could swear that these are not the eyes of an animal, but of a human! The bull no longer struggles; on the contrary, it stands still, bowing its head. Solemnly, she places the crown between its golden horns, kneels before it, bending her hands in prayer and closing her eyes.

The beginning of the ritual is marked by the continuous beat of the drums and the priest’s loud prayer. The emperors want to wage war again, to enslave more and more countries and peoples, and now, armed with a fearsome general, they await the gods’ blessing. That’s why she is here, and that’s why blood will be spilled today.

"What do you ask of the gods, amata?" the priest calls out, raising his hands to the sky.

Not opening her eyes or lowering her hands, she shouts as loud as she can in response:

"For blessing, for victory, for the greatness of Rome!"

The drums pounded like a storm, the bull let out a mournful cry, and she kept whispering her prayer, even as her heart pounded harder, even as a terrible unease settled in her stomach.

A moment. A sound—low and guttural.

And then, warmth. Hot liquid splashed over her, soaking her from head to toe. She knew what it was. This was why she knelt—to be anointed, to receive the gods’ answer, to be purified.

The thick, metallic scent filled her nose. Blood stung her eyes, slid down her face, dripped from her lips. It filled her mouth with every breath, stuck in her throat like a swallowed scream. But she didn’t stop. She whispered through bloodied lips, through the deafening drumbeats, until the very last word of her prayer left her tongue.

A bright flash illuminated her, though her eyes were closed, and she saw light—brilliant, beckoning. A good omen. The gods had accepted the sacrifice.

The priest leans down to her, and she whispers the good news to him, and he hoarsely repeats it to the entire Colosseum. The crowd, frozen in eager anticipation, bursts into cheers.

Livia rises to her feet, wiping her face. The blood has already begun to dry, pulling at her skin uncomfortably. The bull lies lifeless at her feet, its black eyes frozen forever. Part of it will be burned as an offering to the gods, and part will be cooked and eaten at the feast after the games. The thought of how it had looked at her with such intelligent eyes makes her sick. She quickly turns away, facing the imperial box, adorned with vines, flowers, and purple banners.

Both emperors raise their right hands in greeting, and the crowd erupts in cheers. How fickle people are! Not long ago, they wanted to tear their rulers apart, and now they celebrate them like divine saviors.

As she leaves the arena, the last thing she sees is the bull’s body being dragged through the opposite gates, a trail of blood smearing across the burning sand. A strange, uneasy feeling grips her, but she pushes it down, too shaken to dwell on it.

ৡ ৡ ৡ

They let her wash her hands and face, change into a clean tunic, but her dark curls, now stiff and heavy with dried blood, still reek of iron and death. She tucks them beneath her veil and hurries back to her place among the other Vestals.

The row where the Vestals sit stands out as a white line among the dressed-up guests. Their platform is on the left side of the imperial box. Livia sits to the right of the senior vestal and keeps her eyes fixed on the imperial box, even though the first fight has already begun. How could she not stare? She’s never been so close to those who rule the world.

Both of her sisters were married to senators, and she doesn’t know either of their husbands. But the Senate was one thing. This was something else entirely.

The emperors are strikingly young. Livia leaned forward slightly, eager to get a better look. The one sitting closest to her taps nervously on the golden armrest with his thin white fingers. Red-haired and pale, he doesn’t give off an impression of greatness or awe. Painted like a maiden, dressed the same. Livia doesn’t accept long garments on men; she sees it as a sign of effeminacy and a betrayal of traditions. A toga would have been more fitting for a man in her view, but then again, these are not just men.

He sat in profile, so no matter how much Livia strained her neck, she couldn’t make out his face. In another fit of curiosity, she rose slightly, hoping to catch a glimpse of the ruler’s face, but immediately found herself facing the mocking gaze of blue eyes. From behind his brother’s shoulder, the second emperor looked at her, leaning in and smiling shamelessly.

Embarrassment floods her, and Livia sits up straight, closes her eyes, cursing herself for her tactlessness and curiosity. She rarely takes an interest in other people, even less often men, so the very fact that she got caught staring, right after having just shown all of Rome the will of the gods, stings her deeply. She liked that the people treated the Vestals with awe and reverence, but in the emperor’s smile, she saw neither respect nor awe, only mockery.

"I’ll introduce you to the emperors later, behave properly," the senior vestal instructs her sternly, and Livia lowers her head in shame.

Today, there weren’t many killings; the festival shouldn’t be tarnished by too many deaths, so the games ended quickly. They were escorted into the halls inside the Colosseum, and as they walked slowly, still surrounded by the Praetorian guards, the crowd parted before them, eyeing them and whispering. The last time the Vestals had appeared at the games was under Marcus Aurelius, so their appearance was truly a momentous event for all of Rome.

"Raise your head, child, here are our rulers," her mentor commanded, and Livia obediently looked ahead.

Their arrival was met with a swell of voices, loud exclamations ringing through the air.

The first of the two, the one she had noticed in the stands, was tall and stately, but no warrior. His features were fine and well-defined, his dark eyes sharp with intelligence, but the set of his full lips betrayed a restless, nervous nature. A golden laurel nestled in the soft waves of his reddish curls, and his slender frame was draped in a black trabea trimmed with deep purple. Beneath it, a long tunic of the same black, embroidered with gold, shimmered in the light. He looked more like an eastern king than a Roman emperor. She didn’t like him.

While she was studying one of the emperors, the other had already been studying her. She could feel his gaze like a touch, sharp and deliberate. Quickly, she turned to face him.

Oh, he was nothing like his brother.

Shorter, narrower in the shoulders, he moved with a slow, fluid grace, completely at ease. Livia tilted her head slightly, and he mirrored the gesture with an amused glint in his eye. Was he teasing her?

Livia knew that fashion required women to whiten their faces and paint their eyelids, and appearing without blush was considered bad taste—but she had never seen a painted man before. The first emperor’s lids were dusted with a soft, ashy gray, subtle but noticeable. The second’s bright blue eyes were rimmed with warm peach, a color so vivid against his pale skin that it caught her off guard. A shade she had never seen on a man.

He wore a short-sleeved tunic of rich purple, cinched at the waist with a wide golden belt. Her gaze caught on the huge gold medallion hanging from his white neck down to his chest. The sign of Fortuna, the goddess of luck. Did he even understand its meaning? Judging by the many rings and bracelets that gleamed along his fingers and wrists, she doubted it.

Finally, the Praetorians parted, and they, along with the other Vestals, stood face to face with the emperors. The tall one bent slightly and extended his hand, as if expecting the senior Vestal to offer her hand for a kiss. Livia couldn’t help but smirk. Vestals were forbidden to be touched by men, even by the emperor himself. Didn’t he know this?

The awkward moment was broken by the mocking laughter of the second emperor. His brother straightened up, pressed his lips together in irritation, and cast a glance first at his brother, then at them.

"We are glad that you honored us with your presence," he said loudly. His voice was deep and low, yet there were still nervous notes, as if he were anxious.

"And we are grateful for the invitation, Emperor Geta," her mentor replied with a respectful nod.

Geta.

Livia turned her gaze back to the other brother. So this was Caracalla.

"This is Livia," the senior Vestal introduced her. Livia stepped forward, her back straight as a blade, chin raised. "She brought good news to the arena today."

"I see," Caracalla finally spoke. His voice was hoarse, starkly contrasting the softness of his features.

Standing beside him, Livia noticed that the powdered skin, which had appeared so flawless from a distance, was marred by tiny wounds, some of which hadn’t healed and were hidden under layers of rouge. The emperor, sensing her gaze, immediately furrowed his pale brows and lifted his chin, wounded by the thought that she had seen his imperfections. It must be difficult to consider oneself a god when one’s earthly vessel is so far from perfect.

"Oh, that was quite a sight," Geta continued warmly, looking directly at her. His hand twitched forward as if he wanted to take her hand, but she immediately pulled away, causing another burst of laughter from Caracalla.

"You’re too kind, Caesar," she answered with measured dignity. "The scale of the spectacle was truly impressive."

"There will be a feast this evening," Geta said, nodding to her and her sisters. "Join us."

"I’m afraid we must serve at the temple, Emperor."

"What is allowed to Jupiter is not allowed to the bull," Geta quoted, hinting that, with their status, they could do much more than the common citizens of Rome.

"What is allowed to the bull, is not allowed to Jupiter," she replied, and his smile faltered. "Had he not turned into an bull, he would never have approached a defenseless maiden, would he?"

Once again, the young emperor looked wounded, unsure of what to say, helplessly turning to his smiling brother. Livia realized who he reminded her of—the sacrificial bull in the arena today. He had the same dark eyes, vivid and strangely sorrowful, but no trace of wisdom, no matter how hard she tried to look. Geta noticed she was studying him and fluttered his long eyelashes in confusion, then smiled again.

"You’re wise, though young," he tried to compliment her, smoothing over the awkward conversation.

To some, he might have seemed charming. Handsome, even. To someone who hadn’t devoted her life to the glory of Vesta.

"Thank you, Caesar."

The little show ends, and the eldest priestess steps up, leading them away with the emperors.

"They’re quite charming, aren’t they?" Caesonia says quietly, glancing at her with a smile.

Livia tensed. Curious gazes followed them from all sides, high-ranking guests watching their every move. A strange feeling crept over her—guilt. As if she had thought too harshly of her emperors. As if she had been unfair.

"Dignified and charming, yes," she answers calmly, suppressing her negative thoughts.

Order in the mind—order in the heart, and that’s how one must serve the gods. She ran her fingers under the veil, letting her dark curls slip through, trying to focus. Her hair was still soaked in blood, dry and tangled. She stared at her hand, pink from the blood stains, the smell of iron in the air.

"I mean them as men, child," the elder priestess smiles slyly.

Livia paled, a crease appeared between her brows, and her lips tightened into a line.

"You know your vows better than I do, sister," her voice rang with tension.

"Look, don’t touch, darling," the elder priestess continued, her tone unchanged. "We can admire them like beautiful trinkets. You wouldn’t scold me if I were to admire an intricately carved box, or…"

"I need to wash my hands," Livia interrupts her, causing Caesonia to laugh.

They weren’t stone, they had feelings, emotions, struggles. And desires too. Other Vestals sometimes spoke of men, but Livia had never joined in those conversations. And she wouldn’t now. Her training was ongoing, and the last thing she wanted to think about was worldly, base desires.

A bowl of water stood by one of the columns, meant for purification. Livia walked toward it, the crowd parting before her, holding their breath. She was flattered by this. Now, surrounded by gazes brimming with admiration, adoration, and quiet awe, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. Later, she would ask the Goddess for forgiveness for her vanity, but for now, the young Vestal basked in the attention.

She dipped her hands into the cool water, and it immediately bloomed with pink.

"Smells like blood," a voice said behind her.

A strange sense of anxiety gripped her, and her heart began pounding so strongly that it made breathing hard. On the outside, she tried to remain calm, as always. After finishing washing her hands, she turned toward the speaker.

Emperor Caracalla was grinning wide, showing a gold tooth. It seemed the young ruler was in a great mood.

"It is blood, my Caesar."

"Watching you there, kneeling on the arena’s sand, bathed in blood, was the greatest pleasure of the day. I fear even tonight’s feast will not bring me such…delight," his voice was soft, smooth, flowing like honey, and his eyes gleamed with slyness. He was teasing her in a bold, shameless way!

When she was very young, living with her father and sisters, Cassandra and Claudia used to tease her, taking advantage of the fact that they were older. But in the emperor’s words, there was something different. Caracalla didn’t say anything outright offensive, but something about it felt improper. Was it the way he smiled, the way he stood, nonchalantly leaning his shoulder against a column?

In every movement, she sensed how utterly unserious he was—how he tilted his chin, half-closed his eyes, and stretched his painted lips into a lazy smirk.

He reminded her of a cat. The one that lived in the gardens of the Temple of Vesta, rolling from side to side, stretching out its fluffy body under the sun. That one was ginger too.

"It’s an honor to serve Rome, to serve you," he grinned wider, "And your brother," his smile immediately faded, and Livia was stunned at how quickly his expression changed.

For the first time, she was looked at with such disdain. She blinked, trying to convince herself she hadn’t imagined it. No, Caesar still stood there with a deep furrow between his brows, his nostrils flaring. Livia stepped back, unsure what had triggered his anger.

Almost as if seeking support or comfort, she turned, only to meet the black eyes of Emperor Geta. He stood at a distance, surrounded by a crowd. A beautiful copper-haired girl was speaking to him, but his gaze was fixed elsewhere, cutting through the sea of people—on her.

She faltered, then suddenly realized—this had nothing to do with her. The emperors were watching each other.

She mentally pictured herself from the outside: innocent, chaste, in white garments, she should remain dignified and focused. Livia was a priestess of Vesta, not a cunning and ambitious matron, so the emperors’ quarrels didn’t interest her.

Leaving Caracalla behind, she hurried toward the other Vestals, but was suddenly, shamelessly grabbed by the arms and pulled into an embrace. If this had been a man, they’d have been crucified in the Forum by morning, but…

"Livia, my dear!" she hardly recognizes the face of the girl in front of her.

"Claudia!" The calm mask slips from her face for a moment, and she smiles at her sister, whom she hasn’t seen in ages.

"You’ve grown so much! A real beauty! And you look just like Cassandra! Your nose, your lips, your cheekbones," Claudia’s finger traced her face, and Livia shuddered at the unfamiliar sensation of someone else’s touch. "But your eyes… they’re from our father. Ah, our dear sister was so gentle…" Her voice wavered, and her hand dropped.

A man’s arms wrap around her shoulders, and only now does Livia notice the rounded belly of Claudia, the gaunt look on her face, and how feverishly her cheeks shone.

"Congratulations!" she quickly changes the subject, not wanting to speak of Cassandra.

"Yes, yes, this is my husband, Senator Appius, I don’t think you’ve met him, have you?" Claudia’s smile suddenly fades, but her husband grins broadly.

The exchange of pleasantries drags on for too long, and then her mentor arrives.

"It was good to see you, Livia," her sister whispers one last time. "We live at the palace now, visit me, I get so lonely sometimes…"

Livia nods sincerely, promising to visit, and hurries to join the other Vestals. The grip of her mentor on her arm is tight, and her gaze is nervous.

"What did you do to anger the emperors?"

"Me?" her voice sounds genuinely surprised, but then she remembers Caracalla’s hateful gaze, and she too asks herself the same question. "I don’t know, I’m sorry."

Suddenly, the crowd around her—the murmuring guests, the admiring stares—became unbearable. What had once flattered her now felt suffocating. Hundreds of eyes watched her with reverence, with curiosity, yet only one pair—bright, piercing, burning with something close to fury—ruined her mood completely. She didn’t belong here.

Still, before she could leave the Colosseum and return to the Vestal House, she would have to face them once again.

Caesonia noticed her growing unease and linked arms with her, trying to comfort her.

"Once again, we thank you for the honor you have shown us and hope to see you again," Geta began, locking his hands together.

"We are pleased that the bond between our temple and the emperors has been restored," the senior Vestal responded politely.

"Oh, and one more thing," Geta said, theatrically raising his hands, "Our mother wished to visit your temple…"

"Yes, mother," Caracalla mockingly drawled, cutting off his brother. There was something in his tone that Livia didn’t like again. That’s not how you speak about your parents, even if they’re not by blood. "She can get so lonely, and we’re not always around to entertain her properly."

Her cheeks flushed, and Livia didn’t understand why, but Caracalla noticed her brief pause and grinned, his mouth opening slightly, pleased that he had provoked some emotion from her. She lifted her chin, refusing to seem vulnerable, even though inside she was embarrassed.

The moment of farewell came. She longed to return home as quickly as possible, to forget all these strange glances and words. There, among the other Vestals, she would be safe, and no troubling thoughts would haunt her.

"Until we meet again," Geta said politely, licking his upper lip and adding, "Amata, I hope next time we can do without the bloodshed."

Amata. Beloved.

She only nodded, unwilling to show how much she disliked being addressed that way by a stranger.

Caracalla didn’t say a word, looking away as if he didn’t even notice her.

And just as she exhaled, walking past him, quietly relieved by the absence of his attention, she felt it.

A touch.

A featherlight, teasing touch traced from the tip of her pinky, gliding up the soft curve of her hand—barely noticeable, yet it burned like fire.

She stopped, glancing back over her shoulder, but the emperor wasn’t looking at her; on the contrary, he was leaning toward his brother, speaking to him.

It felt as though she’d been struck. The heat spread across her cheeks, sank lower into her chest, then froze in her stomach. How dare he?! No one had the right to touch them. Neither mortal nor immortal man would ever dare touch a Vestal Virgin. But he… He turned away, pretending nothing had happened, though that single gesture had shaken everything she had believed in for so long.

Trying to suppress her anger and confusion, she hurried toward her sisters, unaware that both emperors were watching her leave.

Without realizing it, Livia had started a new game.

ৡ ৡ ৡ

note: this story is directly connected to there will be games! Livia is the sister of Cassandra, the protagonist of that story. It’s been about two months since the events of the finale and what Geta did.

[yujinnieswifeu]

Hi I loved your bully wonyoung x gp!reader. I wanted to request a part 2 to it only if your up for it of course.

a/n: gonna combine these two requests since it’s kinda the same thing :3, and yes i can def write a part 2 to that hehe, thanks for requesting anons, had fun writing them 🤭 (someone needs to teach me how to align things properly in tumblr thanks🚶🏻‍♀️)

pairings: g!p fem reader x Wonyoung

warnings: smut, reader has a penis, Y/n cums inside Wony, Wony spitting inside of Y/n’s mouth (just once🥹)

Link to part 1:

———————————————————————————

When Wonyoung said she was not going to be as easy as the previous time, you did not expect her to keep her promise. So here you were now, in her bedroom, your hands and legs bound to the bedposts as she plays with your red and throbbing cock. “P-please can’t take it a-anymore…ahh!” You cried out for the millionth time, Wonyong has a magic wand in her hand as she tortured you to no ends. She only smirks deviously, enjoying the way your body jerks when she drags the tip of the magic wand onto your now swollen and angry tip, your breathy moans and babbles music to her ears.

“Fucking desperate bitch.” She mutters, finally pulling the vibrating toy off you. You let out a whimper, hips jerking slightly from the harsh stimulation and endless edging. “W-wony-” “Don’t call me by my name whore, it’s mistress to you, understand?” She cuts you and you nod your head desperately, pulling at the binds around your wrists as you let out a pained cry. “I-i want to cum so b-bad please!” You begged, she just chuckles at your desperation, swiping her phone out from her back pocket to capture your messed up state. “So pretty like this..” she mutters to herself, watching how you were struggling against the binds.

“Aww, is it too much for you?” Her voice was laced with faux sympathy, pouting as she nears you. You could only muster a whimper, watching as she drops her skirt to the floor, noticing how her panties has clung to her bare pussy, a damp spot between her legs. She was enjoying this as much as you. She drags her panties off slowly, satisfied when she sees you squirm on the bed. She hovers over your face this time, her hand moves down your stomach to the base of your cock, wrapping it over her fingers. You couldn’t help but jerk your hips, moaning as your eyes rolls to the back of your head at the stimulation, you were so sensitive at this point. “Move again and i’ll stop.” You whine out in response, tears prickling at your eyes as you reluctantly obeyed.

“You know what to do right pup?” Her nickname was driving you insane, the throbbing between your legs only intensifying. You start to give her small licks, watching how her breath hitches, how she has bit her bottom lip, trying to suppress her moans. “T-that’s right, good puppy.” She mocks, moving her hand up and down slowly over your cock, it makes you moan, the vibration adding to the pleasure. “Fuck, i guess your mouth is only good for one thing huh?” Her hand leaves your throbbing member, and your whimper comes out muffled as you eat her out.

Instead, her soft and slender fingers finds purchase in your hair, riding herself over your face. You could feel yourself getting even harder at the sight, letting her use you as she pleases. “F-fuck, i’m going to cum...a-ahh!” Wonyoung body jerks as she comes all over your face, you moan against her, feeling yourself being brought over the edge without any stimulation, your body shuddering underneath her and she realises what has happened. “Fuck…you really are such a loser aren’t you? Cumming without me touching you even.” She rasps out, now sliding herself off you instead, going down to where you had cummed all over yourself.

“Be my slut hm?” Her eyes locked onto yours, like a silent communication, you bit your bottom lip nervously, your cheeks turning red. “Aww, did what i say make you all flustered?” She faux a pout your way, and you only whimper in response, squirming at the restraints still. “Answer me and maybe, i’ll untie you…depending on the answer of course.” She gives you a wicked smirk, one that could make any other stranger shiver with fear, but it only makes you throb harder for her. “Y-yes..” You stutter, feeling your cheeks turn hot at the thought of being her plaything. And she didn’t really give you a choice either. “That’s a good slut.” She grabs your jaw, her face hovers yours. “Open.” Wonyoung orders, and you obey her, parting your lips as she spits into your mouth. “Swallow.” Her voice was lower than usual, watching as you swallow obediently. She could definitely get used to this.

“Since you’re so good for me…i’ll let you lead this time.” She undoes your binds, and almost instantly your hands were on her, pushing her back against the bed, your head in her hair as you take a deep breath of her, her scent evading your senses as you whine against her neck. “Can i please put it in?” You asked so nicely, so how could Wonyoung even refuse. Her hand goes down to stroke your cock that was covered in your pre-cum and cum from earlier, causing you to jerk a little, your brows furrowing as you moan against her skin. “Didn’t i say you can lead this time hm?” You shiver at her words, it all sounded too good to be true, but even if so, you would take the chance.

Without another word, you slipped yourself inside of her, you hear her let out a groan at the stretch, her fingers at the back of your neck as she brought your face to hers, kissing you deeply. It was the first time Wonyoung showed you affection, and to be honest, you liked it. “I-i need to cum soon!” You cry out, already near your high from all the edging earlier, and feeling even more sensitive as her walls flutters more around you, she brings your hand to play at her clit, and you moan at how wet she was for you. “Gonna c-cum! C-can i cum please mistress?” It comes out desperate, your hips moving in a sloppy manner as you near your orgasm. “F-fuck yes, come inside of your mistress..!” Wonyoung orders, feeling your hips stuttering as you cum inside of her. Your fingers rubbing circles at her clit and the feeling of your cum inside of her makes her cum as well, a whimper falling past her lips as she drags her nails over your back.

You had your face buried into her neck, inhaling her scent mixed with the smell of sex, not pulling out yet. She took this time to catch her breath, her fingers in your hair comfortingly. “I…i was serious about what i said earlier.” She mutters, feeling you shift as you look up at her, the back of your head resting against her shoulder. She tries not to smile at how cute you looked at that moment, realising she might have just fallen in love with you, this you, and she could get used to it. “You mean….uh..to be y-your slut?” You murmur the last part, feeling your cheeks heat up again, and she giggles.

It was genuine this time, how she looked at you, she was being real. “That too of course, but i mean..maybe..i want to get to know you more.” She says plainly, it wasn’t usual of her to be so nice to you, and since she was your bully, or used to be, it was even harder to believe this was even happening, but it was. You set that thought aside for now, noticing how it was Wonyoung’s turn to turn red, but instead of teasing her, you gave her soft kisses along her neck, burrowing your face into her neck. “That sounds really nice.”

[pupyuj]

[cw: dubcon, manipulation, age gap (legal ofc?!), mommy kink, dacryphilia, bondage]

here i am again with another wony thought of mine 😭 i’ve been seeing a lot of wony asks from you guys so here’s something a lil extra on top of me working on the wony stuff ya’ll have been sending/have sent before :] this is a very specific scenario i hope you guys don’t mind LMAO

wony’s never beating the mommy’s girl allegations i fear!

ehehe heiress!wony with you as her mentor figure :(( you’re one of her rich grandfather’s closest associates and since the man’s company was going to get hand over to her soon, it only made sense for the old man to put someone closer to her age as her mentor 😚 but you were still way older, way more mature—and not only was your position intimidating but also the way you carried yourself inside your job and also outside of it simply made you irresistible to wonyoung… so irresistible that she doesn’t say anything when one day, you put your hand on her thigh while you were teaching her your ‘ways’… and it all starts from there really 😋

she would literally do anything for you once everything was said and done and you’ve got her wrapped around your fingers :(( don’t wear anything underneath her little skirt for easy access? yes, mommy. wear whatever outfit you want her to wear for that day? yes, mommy. carry a vibrator inside her cunt and keep up the ‘good girl’ act no matter how good or bad it feels? yes, mommy. talk properly on the phone while you’re pleasuring her sensitive little clit? yes, mommy.

ah, speaking of “mommy”… it’s like she doesn’t even know your name anymore! pretty thing learned fast… you were fucking her on her bed one day—her laptop and all her paperwork pushed aside haphazardly—and she saw how a sick smile formed on your face when she let “mommy” slip out and ever since then it’s all she called you bcs you loved it… what a good girl 🥺 and wony knows better than to speak long conversations with you in public bcs if a single person in the company even hears her say “mommy” there were going to be a lot of questions… and she knows you had enough on your plate! also loves quickies in a bathroom or a small meeting room bcs she just repeatedly whispers “mommy, mommy!” in your ear and you fuck her so much better each time…

oh you’d just love pushing wony to tears, either by edging her or overstimming her… binding her hands with cuffs or some pretty silk restraints above her head and watching her struggle and cry while you fucked her from behind :(( baby’s big on begging… shaking her head profusely when she thinks she’s had enough, “no! nonono, please, mommy…!” and really, you should feel bad for treating her like a whore but it was her fault! she embarrassed you by failing to impress some colleagues of yours… this was her punishment and she has no choice but to accept it :(( “please, mommy, i’ll be good..! i’ll be a good girl, just—ah!—stop, please…” she’s so desperate since she already came so much but :(( she looks so pretty crying! with her little pout and the tears that fell like a waterfall whenever she squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed… how could you not fuck her the entire night??

you still treat her like royalty, however… she is jang wonyoung after all—it’s what she deserves! singing praises in her ear when you noticed how well she was handling all her work as the soon-to-be president of her grandpa’s company, making sure that she’s all comfortable on your lap while she’s working and pleasuring her gently to ease all her pressure… her reward for doing so well after a long day of work? well, a warm bath and some good ass shower sex ofc! 🫣🫣 only giving wony kisses and a little tease by softly massaging her pretty tits but then as soon as you get to the shower, she’s all marked up and she’s screaming “mommy!” (again) while you fuck her so good against the wall…

now neither of you would even bother getting dressed during nights like those! sitting on wony’s bed with her in between your legs while a movie played on the ridiculously huge tv she had in her room… not like you were paying attention anyway. you’d be peppering wony’s neck with kisses while she giggles.. but as soon as one of your hands sneak in between her legs, wony knows it was going to be another long night with her favourite mommy 🫣💓

[timeslostart]

April 12th, 2023

IT'S MY HOBBY NOT YOURS - SEXISM IN KNITTING AND THE HARSH REALITY FOR MALE KNITTERS

Why is men knitting a bad thing?...

Recently, because I've been so much more active on my social media, I've noticed a trend in my knitting groups that I don't like... female knitters are not very nice to male knitters.  It's almost like they feel men are trying to steal their craft, and this is just not the case.

I notice whenever I comment online about teaching my boyfriend how to knit most women stop interacting with me or make derogatory comments about how their husbands could never do it and imply that they are not patient enough, let alone smart enough.  Reality check ladies... you do not need to be a rocket scientist to learn how to knit.  Anyone can knit and most men have more patience than we will ever know, especially, when it comes to their girlfriend's chattieness.  (yes I talk enough for two women at the very least; that's why I have a blog!)  Knitting also isn't some secret craft only women are allowed to know.  Art in any form should be shared and fiber art, especially, should be passed down to the younger generations, which include... dare I say... MEN!  Perhaps this is a little known fact but a couple hundred years ago it was men who did the majority of the knitting.  Queen Victoria of England was one of the main influenced that got women into the hobby as she loved to knit and did it quite often.

In a society now clambering for inclusivity for absolutely everything under the sun; I find it absurd that many modern women do not want men to knit.  Case and point... our local yarn store is owned by an older woman, (mid fifties I'd wager to guess - we call her the "yarn lady") who is always extremely nice to me when I go in there and even nice when I bring my boyfriend and youngest son along, however, I've been noticing that she directs all her conversation towards me when we go in as a couple.  I didn't think anything of it until recently when my boyfriend tried to sign up for a beginner knitting class she was offering at her store.  The gist of it is he got told he didn't know enough to take the class.  I had been teaching him foundation stitches, cast ons, bind offs and simple stitch patterns so when he told me this I looked at him quite puzzled.  When I read the qualification list to take the class he met every one.  He even had taken a sample of his work in to show the "yarn lady" but it was to no avail.  She refused to let him sign up.  This infuriated him and rightly so and it upset me as well.  I was the one who told him that he should take the class as I was getting too busy to teach him to knit properly.  Between my eldest son (six), my youngest son (eleven months), revamping my website, blog and design work; I had no spare time for myself to knit let alone teaching someone else.  The only conclusion we could come to is that she didn't want men in her class.  There have been Facebook knitting groups as well that have let me join but for my boyfriend; his request is still pending three months after the fact.

This is not the only travesty however.  Have you ever noticed that there are not a lot of knitting patterns for men?  Compared to women and children, men don't have even half of the options or variety that women and children do.  Sexism in knitting is very prevalent and this needs to change.  Men like sweaters, toques and scarves just the same as women do.  This has most definitely been brought to my attention as my boyfriend is having a hard time finding patterns that he would like to knit.  So, like me, he has decided to start designing knitwear.

His first pattern, The Every Man Scarf, was just released on TLA last month and he has been requested by a few other male knitters to keep designing so there will be more patterns from him to come.  In the meantime...  If you would like to read a bit more about the history of knitting please check out the links below:

https://www.the-sustainable-fashion-collective.com/2017/05/04/knitting-brief-history-knitting-uses

https://www.allfreeknitting.com/Tips-for-Knitting/Who-Invented-Knitting-Look-Into-Knitting-History/amp

Also feel free to check out some of our other men's designs that are ready for download on our website: https://www.timeslostart.com

A saying I have been teaching my children is "you get what you give."  Always remember that giving love and tolerance to others gets you a whole lot further than exclusion and intolerance.

Ladies we know very well what it is like to be judged and denied things based solely on our gender... we know how it makes us feel so why in the world would we do the same thing that has been done to us to our male counterparts?  Just something to think about.

Gabrielle Vansteelandt - Times Lost Art

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Ur good 🗞 anon I don't have a problem with it :))) also I'm sending u a red eye (drip coffee w a shot of Espresso in it) it is the fuel that keeps blue collar guys going

ALSO ALSO IM STILL FERAL OVER GENDERBENT 141 FUCK WOMENNNNNN

-🔪

I love how you 2 are having a love affair in my asks

speaking of Genderbent!141,

Let me use highjack this ask to cook up something good:

Genderbent!Los Vaqueros (and everyone else).

(this is especially for @lyralein and their promise to draw me Alejandra and Rosario)

Alejandra Vargas has the longest, prettiest hair for someone who spends their time with it TIED IN A DAMN HIGH PONYTAIL???? She 100% wears SOOOO much hair gel to keep it slick and from having flyaways while in the field but that means it exposes her widow's peak and big ass fivehead. She's very used to being underestimated (just like Jane Price) but she has natural scary dog privilege and even her smirks and smiles look evil, so her subordinates Know Better™️. Also, she's tall as all hell, just like Simone. Fuck you mean she's 5ft10???? She serves cunt everywhere she goes when off-duty.

Rosario "Rosa" Parra has a curly bob and has the longest prettiest eyelashes. Does it pass regulation? No. But are you gonna go tell the Colonel's best friend to fix her hair, cut it? No. Exactly. Now get out of her face before SgtMj Parra makes you run drills. She and Alejandra have MATCHING tattoos that they got after the betrayal of their teammates who were on the cartel's payroll (like Valerio Garza). I'm entirely convinced her and Alejandra have gossip sessions over coffee when doing paperwork.

Valerio Garza is 100% such a fucking papi chulo. You know it, I know it. Man's got the most beautiful brown eyes, thickest brows, and the nastiest little smug smirk on his lips at all times. Has a shaggy little hairstyle that just makes him look like SUCH a fuckboy and a 5 o'clock shadow. Man's tall as all hell and I just KNOW he's got a fucking scorpion tattooed in his forearm. Just trust me on this.

Patricia Graves (yes I know Philipa exists but I don't like it for him bc it's not 'common' the way 'Philip' is common for men) is such a fucking bitch. I'm sorry, but she is. (to me, Philip's actions just become even more inexcusable when she's a woman like????) Anyways. Has the sleekest light brown hair but she gets it lightened to blonde because she can. Who's gonna stop her? Wears her hair cut into a lob (long bob) and unironically loves cowboy boots when she's out of uniform.

Alexa Keller is ready to fuck shit up at a moment's notice. Give her a time and a place and she WILL show up, drop some bodies, and leave without a word. Tall and strong, but not as beefy as Soap. Especially top-heavy. I'm convinced she binds her chest with bandages in order to fasten her vest on properly. Has a layered bob and carries bobby pins in her pack/pockets so she can keep pinning it back, on TOP of already carrying hair-ties around her wrists. At one point, Faris teaches her how to tie a scarf to keep it off her face.

Faris Karim is, I hate to say it, tall and on the skinny side. The ULF is a freedom fighting group and he's spent much time in prison, so, he's not as 'well developed' as many soldiers would be. Nonetheless, he's a good leader and makes up for his lesser build with determination. Has a beard that he cannot keep up with more often than not so he shaves it off when it gets too long, and keeps his hair in a combover or quiff.

Christopher "Chris" Laswell is, point blank, tall and slightly pudgy, used to being behind a desk, writing reports and fucking people up with words more than with fists. That being said, piss him off hard enough and he'll have you on your ass. Has an Ivy League cut with a side part and is either PERFECTLY clean-shaven or has the THICKEST beard you've ever seen. (I was gonna 'pick' a mustache only but then he'd look like Alex Keller too much)

Natasha is, I hate to say it, the most stereotypical Russian woman you've ever met... minus the blonde hair. She has the beautiful waves, she has the red lipstick and the heavy make-up, she has the expensive fur coats, and dresses and heels, and all the jewelry. Is it practical? No. But she's a CEO and a forced to be reckoned and there's nothing stopping her.

[ More Genderbent!COD ]

[madisonmontgomeryimagines]

hii, it’s kinda specific but i think it would be cute to picture neurodivergent reader (could be autistic, hypersensitive etc..) teaching Madison how to hug her properly. Like where to put her hands or the right amount of pressure as to not overstimulate her

I hope you had/have a good day !

(this is so sweet, my heart.. I hope you have a great day!)

--

"Teach me, then." Madison's dark eyes were expectant, fixed on you in that way that made you feel simultaneously claustrophobic and as though you were at the very edge of the world. She looked at you as if you were the sun as well as the black hole that might end everything she knew.

You took a slow breath, bracing yourself to expect her (always gentle) touch as you nodded slowly. "Go under my arms." You wondered if your voice was too quiet, but as you extended your arms, she hooked hers under them, hands hovering inches away from your back as she waited for your next instruction.

"Put your hands on my shoulder blades." You hated the way your voice quivered, the way your words betrayed how much it meant that someone cared enough to learn how to hold you.

Madison's hands felt warm, as if she were made of the very fire that came so quickly to her fingertips when she called it. Her fingers splayed over your shoulder blades, as if she were trying to cover as much area as possible.

"Just as tight as is comfortable." You murmured, hiding your face in her neck so you could pretend there was less vulnerability, your heart hammering in your ears. Almost immediately, she enveloped you in firm pressure, as if she were what binded all of your pieces together into one person. You didn't mean to cling to her, for your knees to shake for half a second.

Mercifully, she seemed to understand the stutter of your breath against her neck, one of her hands moving in the tiniest of circles without ever leaving where you had directed her. When you closed your eyes you could almost believe that it was only the two of you that existed.

"Thank you," you whispered into sensitive skin, unsure and uncaring if your words were heard. Later you could explain how in this moment it felt like you could finally breathe in a way that actually filled your lungs, but all you could do in the present moment was try to commit every sensation to memory.

[numberoneacetrappolafan]

☾Atsushi Headcanons!☽

TW FOR EATING DISORDERS, MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION, SELF LOATHING, SWEARING, VOMIT, MALNUTRITION, MENTIONS OF TERRORISM, SU!C!D3(Dazais song), UNSAFE BINDING, PANIC ATTACKS, DEATH, ABUSE, CHILD DEATH, RELIGIOUS TRAUMA, ACCIDENTAL CANNIBALISM,

•He is trans masc(Hasn’t gotten top/bottom surgery yet) He uses He/They Pronouns

•He is a Polyamorous Demisexual Pansexual

•He has a whole slew of mental and physical disorders, he found out because Kunikida took him to get tested for autism

•Disorders he has: PTSD, OCD, ADHD, ADD, Autism, Depression, Anxiety Disorder, 3 Eating Disorders, Psychosis, Malnutrition, Schizophrenia, Borderline Personality Disorder, Tics and Tourette’s, restless leg syndrome, echolalia, and Cervical Dystonia

•After hearing this he just looked at Kunikida and asked, “Why am I collecting them?”

•He is a really good singer, he used to sing to younger kids at the orphanage who couldn’t sleep or were just having a bad day, it was the one thing he couldn’t hate about himself

•Once Kunikida learned Atsushi had never had a good father figure he started subconsciously acting like one towards him, checking in on him, teaching him things, defending him, buying him things, taking time out of his schedule to make sure he’s alright, driving him places etc

•Atsushi has and will eat small animals if given the chance

•He really likes Tangled because he finds Rapunzels story relatable, and because he likes chameleons

•He is a really good artist, he used to draw whenever he could in the orphanage

•Some of Atsushis Tics are: “We’ve been accused of Terroism!”, “Meow Meow!”, “Beep”, “Fuck you”, “Buzz Buzz”

•He has echolalia, and repeats a lot of things, such as: Dazais Su!c!d3 song, “Super Mystery Solver!” And “Rashomon!”

•Byakko is sentient and says the weirdest things, ex: “You should eat your ginger friend”

•Atsushi has a reflex similar to a cat where he will slap someone if they surprise him, leading to him accidentally bitch slapping Dazai

•Atsushi has VERY strong teeth, one time Ranpo brought jawbreakers to work and gave Atsushi one, Ranpo then started talking to Yosano when they heard a loud *CRACK*, and just see Atsushi chewing on a jawbreaker as if it was taffy. Everyone just stared and Atsushi was confused. (Kunikida panicked)

•After he ate all that Chazuke in the first episode, he actually ended up vomiting because his stomach wasn’t used to that much to eat

•He used to bind with bandages, But when Kunikida found out, he taught him how to properly bind

•He chews on everything he can, strings, yarn, rubber, electrical cords, you name it. Atsushi is basically a cat in that sense, Kunikida has bought him teething toys for this

•Tanizaki and Atsushi are best friends, Tanizaki knows the most about what happened to Atsushi at the orphanage, and Atsushi knows the most about his insecurities

•One time Atsushi was falling asleep on the agency’s couch and nobody had the heart to wake him up, eventually he had to. So Kunikida shook him awake, and in a soft tone said, “Cmon kid, you need to get up.” Atsushi mumbled and replied, “Just five more minutes dad….” Needless to say Atsushi got a lot more than five minutes, and if Kunikida cried, nobody said anything

•One time Kunikida arrived at the agency(He’s usually the first one there, only to find Atsushi there already started on work) Kunikida was very proud of him and pat his head

•Yosano made it her goal to get Atsushi to stop apologizing for everything, every time he does, she will stare at him until he takes it back

•Kunikida teaches Atsushi math whenever they have time

•Atsushi can only get drunk/high if something has catnip in it

•One time Atsushi broke a glass object at Kunikidas house, and in a panic attempted to clean it up with his bare hands, Kunikida comforted him and made sure he was alright

•Sometimes if someone praises him or pats him he will purr

•When he gets over emotional sometimes his ears and tail will pop out

•Atsushi stress bakes

•He’s not that good of a swimmer(Never got proper lessons)

•He tends to cover his ears whenever things get loud

•He enjoys sitting in sunspots

•He could decimate anyone with insults, you insult someone he loves? He will absolutely DESTROY you

•Atsushis favorite number is the date he met Kunikida and Dazai

•Despite not liking physical touch he is a clingy drunk

•He doesn’t have a lot of pop culture knowledge, so Dazai set up annual movie nights to teach him



•He has freckles

•Gets super bad nightmares

•He has really sharp teeth

•He has HORRENDOUS spice tolerance

•He’s never had “The Talk”

•He will sit in a box if given the chance

•Just like how a cat slow blinks at people it trusts, so does Atsushi

•He does the making biscuit thing that cats do

•One time the ADA found Atsushi curled up in a cabinet

•If Atsushi ever learned how to drive he would have EXTREME road rage

•He’s never been on a plane

•Naomi, Tanizaki, Atsushi, and Haruno get together every Wednesday after work, and just mess around, it’s a double date of sorts (Haruno and Naomi are dating) and Tanizaki and Atsushi are pining for one another

•He has a quiet sneeze, because people at the orphanage would get mad if he was loud

•He likes sitting out in the rain, Kunikida scolds him for tracking in water, and raising the chance of him getting a cold

•He is oblivious to flirting, you have to be VERY forward to get him to notice, and when he does he turns into a flustered mess

•At the orphanage he would take on a parental/Big Brother role for the younger kids

•He figured out he was trans when he was 13, after an older kid told him about it

•He’s not that good of a cook, he can make the basics but other than that he’ll get lost

•He’s not very good at fashion

•He had two close friends at the orphanage, Roberto(I named him after the bird from Rio 2) and Yūki

•One day during a cold winter, Yūki was punished for accidentally breaking a vase, she was thrown outside in the cold with nothing but an old cloak. The next morning Atsushi and Roberto ran outside to look for her, they saw something In the snow, and when they got closer they realized it was Yūkis dead body, she had died of hypothermia

•Roberto faked his death and ran away after this, leaving Atsushi all alone. I like to believe he ended up somewhere in Yokohama

•Atsushi loves strawberries, the first time he tried them he couldn’t help but just scarf them all down

•He can eat raw meat

•He has religious trauma, everyday at the orphanage he would pray that he would become someone worthy of life

•After Shibusawas murder, the headmaster fed Atsushi bits of his body. Atsushi was confused at the fact he was given more to eat and more often. He thought that he finally earned his right to live. He is completely unaware that he did this

•Everyone at the agency takes turns teaching Atsushi different things

•He wants to learn how to play the flute

•He can’t whistle

•He can see in the dark

•He likes to draw on his skin

•He hates the way his eyes look

•He has a cat-like tongue

•He can understand cats

[cannedvampirejuice]

high school teacher + demon killer au because ?????????

lots and lots of details below. i kinda went insane

TLDR Artoria is a Slayer figure so shes just really good at killing shit, but that also means demons and etc are just naturally attracted to her. Merlin helped raise her with everything she would need to be a killing machine, and has for several of her reincarnations, but with each one he felt worse and worse she didnt get a normal life even if it was for "the greater good". He still taught her how to defend herself but couldnt bring himself to railroad her into dedicating her entire life to it again so now shes a school Principal and he's head of the English department. He does everything in his power to make sure Artoria doesn't notice demon activity (she does, she notices it very much, but she remembers her past lives and is trusting Merlin to handle it and treating this like a vacation essentially). Merlin is responsible for properly banishing demons from earth when hunters kill them, as destroying their hosts or their demonic forms still gives them a chance to come back years down the line.

He noticed Izou (PE teacher) and Antonio (Music teacher) had affinity for demon slaying and pays them extra to help keep the school safe, because its a supernatural hotzone now from Artoria being there. Theres a lot more staff recruits (you can assume every other staff member in every department is in on it) but im focusing on these two.

Izou is back in his home town after feeling lonely getting pissed off at his mechanic job, and he just takes the PE position bc how hard can it be to teach kids to kick a ball. or run. He lives in Ryouma's extra room and also loved coming back to find out he was married, invited no one to the wedding, and also his wife is a benevolent dragon god demon that is a threat to the local frog population (she eats them but also accepts them as offerings for small boons) but otherwise harmless. Izou is no stranger to killing demons but his understanding of the magic behind it is pretty much zero, he'll just keep cutting until it dies. And if cutting it doesnt kill it, hes in trouble. His favorite student is Okita Jr, a young girl who's a bit outcast because she always talks to her imaginary friend Rengoku. but she actually "listens" to Izou's athletic advice, which makes him incredibly happy. She's the daughter of Okita and Nobu.

Antonio has always struggled with possessions and he foolishly made a deal with one named The Gray Man to get other demons off his back when he was a child. When summoned The Gray Man is in control and possesses his body, which lets him physically fight on level with a demon. This has its advantages, but unfortunately just being contracted to The Gray Man occasionally causes auditory and visual hallucinations. This means he needs someone to reality check him occasionally, which Mozart does regularly as his best friend and coworker. Unfortunately, Antonio's most frequent hallucinations involve killing him. When not using The Gray Man he can still conjure a silver sword thats especially effective against undead and cast minor bindings and offensive magics. He does not have a favorite student, but adores the group of children he teaches choir at the local church.

Asclepius is the school nurse whos crabby and intense and yet weirdly lax. if you show up saying you have a stomach ache he'll question you as if you murdered someone, looking for something strange or unique about the most simple injuries or nausea just in case it's tied to a demon or a possession. As soon as you pass his check he'll let you go home, even if you admit you were lying about feeling sick. Its not his business why you want to leave, just get out of his office. But also he's there for demonology research and is given his extra pay in demon corpses for research. He is also not defenseless, having rigged most of his office with some sort of trap or hidden weapon he can set off in case someone tries to steal research or corpses. A perk of him being eccentric is that no one questions why his office takes up the majority of the school basement. He also lives down there.

[neochan]

MISCHIEF (M)

PARING | loki!jeno x reader ft. thor!haechan

SYNOPSIS | the god of mischief wants you

WC | 1k

WARNINGS | kidnapping, implied sexual references, slight cnc / dubcon

A.N | okay i've been super into marvel lately, so here is a little drabble inspired by that. please pay attention to the pairings! btw this will be continued in full over on my marvel blog, though it will be with actual loki and thor

“i didn’t expect to be seeing you on your knees so soon darling.”

the god slouches leisurely against his high-back throne. dark green and golden metal that went beyond that of earth complemented his fair complexion, the jagged spikes at the top reminiscent of the hungry gleam in his eye. one of his legs is dragged towards his chest, a toned arm slung across the knee. it was uncommon to see a god in such a state. unbothered, unproper, inappropriate for someone of his status.

you suppose he could do what he wished. that much was evident in the situation at hand, literally. fingers uncomfortably dig into the skin of your upper arms, half pulling, half dragging, you along the cool marble floor until you were situated on your scraped knees before the god. the binding holding your wrists together behind your back pinches the skin, but you don’t cry out. in fact, you give them nothing.

his guards don’t let go until he flicks a hand in their direction, dismissing them from their duty. he looks unbothered when he does it, as if you hadn’t been the very thing he scoured the multiverse for. years on end, tracking, searching, yearning for you. the very thing needed to satiate that hunger in his eyes; the reprieve for an insatiable creature. it was only by your incompetence that he captured you. falling for his mind tricks – something so simple yet so incredibly careless. you’d beat yourself up every single second you spent in the tiny cell you were in – tucked away in the corner of his ship where no one could hear you yelling obscenities at yourself, the guards, the god.

without thinking, you spit in his direction. you hated him. despised him. the guards go to grab you again but jeno simply waves them off, “no need gentlemen. seem’s like our visitor here needs to learn manners. please occupy yourselves with something else so i can teach her.”

the two men bow low to the ground before retreating to tend to other matters on the ship. not like there was much to do, you were drifting through deep space. some place no one would find you. not even haechan.

“haechan will come looking for me.” you seethe, gritting your teeth when jeno hops up off the stool and tauntingly saunters towards you.

his footsteps echo through the room. the noise makes your stomach churn, and you fear him for a second. he was a god. someone so powerful he could rip your existence from time and space. he should be feared. you knew he could sense it too, a smug smirk lifting the corner of his upper lip.

“my brother isn’t even aware of your disappearance.” the annoyance on his tongue at their familial tie is evident.

that couldn’t be. he knew you were gone. he was probably assembling the avengers as you spoke, he was probably already on his way, maybe even close-

“oh my darling y/n, he’s not on his way. and he’s definitely not close.”

mind reading. you sneer, “fuck off.”

“what filthy words for a pretty girl like you. do i need to wash your mouth out with soap like a child?” his eyebrows raise, features mimicking faux concern.

spit works itself up in your mouth, but right before you’re about to project it in his direction, his hand reaches out and squeezes your jaw, “you are a child. didn’t your mommy and daddy teach you not to spit on people. gods, i expected more from you.” his calloused fingers squeeze harder, “swallow.”

you have no choice but to comply.

“now, why don’t i teach you how to properly use that mouth of yours, hm?”

the heat that was threatening to pool between your legs betrays your brain, which was screaming at you to say no. to break free of the binds and get the fuck out of there.

“darling, i can feel it. you want – need it as much as i do.” he lets go of your jaw and takes a step back, “it’s distracting…overwhelming.” his eyes close and he breathes deep, “your body… it’s tense. waiting for...”he smirks, and you feel the familiar probe of his mind searching your own, “my fingers?” his eyes snap open, “gods, you have a thing for my hands? oh darling it’s too late to deny it now.”

you hated how intrusive he was. how he could take any of the thoughts from your brain and devour them. a personal diary for the picking.

“stop reading my mind! i d-don’t have a thing for your hands. LET ME GO!” your scream rings out through the foyer. this was humiliating. defeating. you just wanted to go home.

“my sweet, i can make this your home. your empire.” he kneels down in front of you, a hand reaching out to caress the same jaw he had nearly crushed earlier, “i didn’t almost crush your jaw. i was stopping you from ruining my suit.”

doe eyes peak up at him with anger, “get your hands off of me.”

“would you rather them be here?” light as a feather, his fingers trail down the side of your throat, favoring the front of the tattered shirt you were in. they slip underneath the hem and slide over the expanse of your stomach.

the gasp that leaves your lips is a betrayal of your own mind.

“i know you want this darling. give in to me.” the god of mischief, chaos, and trickery stares at you through his heavy lashes. you knew he could manipulate someone’s mind, make them bend to his will with one look, but as you nod your head slowly, the words refusing to come out, you realize that there was no manipulation.

he was right all along.

[tired-teacher-blog]

I've been struggling lately with my writing because nothing seems to be good enough. So I thought, what's better to get through this than to try a little something with my two favorite teachers? This is going to be like a little practice round to get me back on track, so I apologize in advance if it sucks 😞

Title : Relationship headcanons

Characters : Aizawa/ Yamada/ Fem reader

Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Fluff/ Headcanons

Please do not read if you're a minor

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

Aizawa :

SFW :

You have talked about your desire to start a family together, he has even mentioned how many kids he wanted you two to have: "as many as possible" is what he would say everytime the subject is brought up. He just craves the idea of having mini versions of the both of you.

He pretends to hate it, but Aizawa Shōta loves the feeling of your fingers moving through his hair. He groans and pouts everytime you play with his locks, but dare to stop and he'll demand you do it again. It's cute, witnessing the cool and laid-back Shōta sleepily whining about the loss of your touch. It makes you feel special, being the only one who gets to see that side of him.

More often than not, you wake up in the middle of the night to his cold empty spot, but you have never wondered about the reason because you know. He has lived through too many horrors that had left him with a chronic insomnia, and although it has gotten a lot better after meeting you, he still occasionally wakes up covered in cold sweat and ends up unable to fall back asleep until morning. On nights like these, you follow him outside to find him either training or working in his office. And no matter how hard he insists, you always refuse to leave him alone.

He is possessive, and doesn't hesitate to show it whenever someone is being a bit too friendly with you. He would simply walk up to you and wrap a protective arm around your waist while glaring daggers into whoever dared to approach his woman, and that's always enough to scare away any unwanted attention.

He loves kissing your neck, even more so because he enjoys the reactions you make everytime his stubble grazes your sensitive skin.

He's the kind of person who would express his feelings for you through actions rather than words.

He loves seeing you interact with Eri, especially since he knows how much you adore her.

NSFW :

He's not really a kinky guy. That said, he does have a mild breeding fetish.

He is extremely dominant in bed, he takes his time pleasuring you and studying your reactions to everything he does.

He loves it when you moan his name everytime you twitch around his cock with pleasure.

His tongue is magic. He knows the effect the sneaky muscle has on you and uses the fact to draw out the sexiest moans out of your throat. He does it for both of you, he loves knowing that he's the only one who's able to give you that much pleasure.

Bite marks, fingerprints, hickeys... He likes marking you, especially in spots only he has the right to see.

With your permission, he occasionally uses his binding cloth on you.

Except for the deep groans, growls and heavy breathing he lets out when he's deep inside of you, he's not really vocal. But all of that changes when you take him into your mouth: "fuck babe! Yeah keep going", "take me deeper sweetheart.. just like that", "you're driving me crazy", "you're mine you got that?"

He worships every single fiber of your being, so there is no room for insecurities with this man. He would teach you -all night long- how to properly love yourself.

He is the king of aftercare. Sex with him can -and would- get intense, so he makes sure to pamper you afterwards. For instance, he would kiss and trace every single bruise left on your skin, he would gently clean you up, whispers loving words into your ear, makes sure you drink plenty of water and fixes you a snack in case you were peckish.

Yamada :

SFW :

Everyone knows about your relationship because Hizashi loves showing you off. He is so proud to have you and considers you to be the single most important thing in his life, which is why he makes sure everyone around you knows you're taken. Yes, he is possessive.

He gives you special greetings and shout-outs during his radio show and dedicates some of his favorite songs to you.

He loves taking you out on dates, it's his chance to spoil and show you all his favorite places in town.

That's not to say that he doesn't enjoy spending quiet evenings with you at home. He likes those just as much, especially since he gets to be more touchy feely with you.

He confessed his love for you first. He asked you to meet him after hours and shyly admitted his feelings. It was precious and out of character. And even after all this time, you still remember that moment like it was yesterday.

He's playful, and a tease. He enjoys flustering you and the best way to do so is by sneaking kisses and touches when you're on a meeting or outside with friends. He's also really good at it and never gets caught.

Tummy kisses are his favorite. He loves dragging his lips and teeth along your belly just to marvel at the sound of your sweet giggles and the feeling of your fingers through his hair.

NSFW :

Body worshipping is his thing. He vocalizes everything he loves about your body and the things he craves doing to you: "look at that cute puffy cunt inviting me in", "you're so soft honey, I can't get enough", "yeah babe keep bouncing on top of me.. fuck! Your boobs are so distracting", "delicious.. so fucking delicious."

He loves eating you out. He enjoys the way your thighs squeeze around his neck right before his sinful tongue pushes you over the edge.

He usually uses his quirk as well to send blissful vibrations up your core.

You have tried quickies in the teachers' office or in one of the empty classrooms at least a few times.

Titty fucking is one of his kinks. Having you underneath him as you engulf his throbbing dick in your soft boobs is guaranteed to drive him insane.

He loves it when you pull on his hair, even more so when you whine and moan his name as you do it.

You have watched porn together too many times to count -his suggestion- but nothing against your will. You're so comfortable with each other that sometimes you indulge in trying some of the things you see in those movies. It's always fun and helps you learn more about each other's preferences.

[quellmythirst]

His Little Wife

Summary: Billy gets home from a long day at the office.

Wife!Reader x Billy Russo

Word: 1.9k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, Plot? Not from me mate, house wife Kinkish, choking, slapping, deg, praise, probs not hygenic but there is pie after?

Your head turns as you hear the click of the alarm turning off and than on again. Starting to move faster as the snap of his expensive boots echoes through the house. Your hands smooth out the silk of your new A line dress under your apron, pulling the straps around your waist tighter as you feel excitement starting to thrum under your skin. 

“Hey darling, where are you?” Billy calls, his footsteps grow closer and you hear the sound of his office door open and his briefcase hit the ground.

“Kitchen,” you reply, attempting to look busy by making two dry martinis, "Picked up your suit's from the dry cleaners this morning and that special bottle of whiskey you ordered came in too."

“There's my girl,” he whispers right into your ear. Shit, you didn't even hear him come in. Suddenly his strong arms wrapping around your middle and pressing your ass into him, “love the dress darling.”

“Thanks, my doting husband picked out for me,” you tilt your head to the left as his nose grazes up from your shoulder, your neck and his teeth latch onto your earlobe.

“And what's this?” He asks, his long fingers glide along the rim of your new apron.

“Didn't want to ruin the dress.”

“Suits you,” his fingers drift down your arms sending jolts of anticipation right to your pussy, “What’s my little wife made me for dinner?”

“You're favourite.” you smirk, wriggling your ass into him and feeling his growing cock grinding back into you.

“What a good little wife,” his hands close around your wrists pulling then behind your back, “always greets me properly,” he pulls your arms back and you gasp at the sudden movement, “good girl,” he praises as you allow him to wrap your hands behind you on the bows of your apron. The soft cotton ties feel silken on your skin as he tightens the material binds.

Billy’s strong hand at your back pushes you down into the counter, the toes of your Prada pumps just barely grazing the floor as you try to find something to steady yourself. “Pie in the oven,” is all you manage to puff out.

“I got it,” he say, his warm body leaving you only for a moment before you hear the beep of the oven turning off, “now that there's no distractions,” his hand drifts up your thigh, pulling your dress up, his breath hitching when your bare pussy is revealed, “no panties?” He slaps at your clit, “such a naughty wife I have,” he hands you the hem of your dress and your fingers latch onto the material, “hold onto this for me. Apparently, I need to teach my wife how to behave before I have my dinner.”

“Billy,” you start to writhe as his fingers tease your inner thighs, the lightest touch, a graze of his nails sending goosebumps all the way down to your toes and making your pussy pulse.

“What is it darling?” He slaps at your clit while his other hand digs into your thigh, “my slutty little wife been walking around our house all day on no panties got herself all worked up?”

“Yes.”

“Such a bad girl,” his fingers palm of your ass before raining a slap down on it, “so desperate for me to come home,” his fingers dip between your thighs, “dripping onto this pretty dress that I bought her,” his knees push at your legs spreading you apart for him, “tell me little wife,” his long fingers spread you open gliding through your pussy, “what's got you so fuckin wet?” his thumb flicks over your clit, “Has someone been here?” his voice almost a snarl, “Somebody do this to you, little slut?”

“You- been waiting all day. Wanted-” you pant as his fingers circle your clit, “Billy I wanted to show you how good I can be.”

“This your version of good?” You hear him lick his lips as he stares down at your dripping pussy, “waiting and ready for me to eat?”

“Yes,” you try to push back when he pulls his hands away, only to shove your stomach harder into the counter.

“Than sit still and let me eat,”

You give a small nod, relaxing your body onto the cold marble counter, your breasts all but falling out of the sweetheart neckline. “Ah,” you moan when you feel his hot breath on top of you. You close your eyes trying your best to remain still as his tongue darts out for a quick taste.

“You're so fucking wet,” he moans into you, his fingers dig into your thighs keeping them apart when you try to shut them in reflex, “so fuckin tasty,” his tongue juts into you lathing at your insides and scooping your juices into his mouth.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip trying to keep some semblance of control as his tongue spears into you, but fuck it feels so good. Your hands grip at your dress, fisting it like it's the only thing keeping you still, because it is.

“Where's my noises little wife?” Billy asks, slowing his movements and pressing teasing kisses on your ass and behind your knee, “I need ambiance to go with my dinner. Maybe you're not as good as I thought?” He sinks those beautiful teeth into your thigh, sucking at the soft flesh.

You release your lip, unable to keep the moan in as his stubble grazes over your sopping pussy.

“There's my good wife,” he kisses over the mark, trailing them all the way back up to your pussy, “keep being loud for me.”

“Yes sir.” 

“Such a good girl,” his tongue plunges into you, his fingers rub at your clit. 

“Yes, please, please,” you beg, though your not entirely sure what for, “please,” you head starts to swim with pleasure as his fucks you with his mouth. His nails dig into your thighs and your whole body feels like it's on fire. 

“You’re clenching on my tongue so hard,” he says sliding his fingers inside you as he moves his mouth forward, “as good as this is little wife,” his tongue traces a line over your clit, “you know what I want to eat,” his breath fans your clit.

“Yes, I know.”

“Then be a good little wife and give me your cum,” his lips latch over your clit, sucking, nipping while his fingers plunge up into your pussy, rubbing at the place he knows sends you wild.

“Yes just like that,” you press yourself back into his face, “god Billy, I'm so close,” you moan as the ache inside you starts to overwhelm and you feel like you'll lose your mind if you don't cum soon. The stretch of a third finger spreading you open burns and tingles and you cry out his name as your whole body starts to shake on the counter. Billy’s firm hands holding you in place so he can drink down every last morsel of your cum. 

“Fuckin delicious,” he moans, his tongue slowing as he allows you to come down from your high, “you look so pretty like this,” his fingers glide up to your hands giving them a quick squeeze, “are your wrists ok?”

“Yes, feels nice actually.”

“My good little wife,” he loosens the ties on your hands, pulling the apron from you and discarding it on the ground, “so eager to please me.”

He lifts you, spinning you over so your back is on the counter and you finally get a good look at him. Those beautiful brown eyes starting a lust driven hunger right into your own. His pretty face covered in your cum, “hi,” you smile up at him feeling slightly dazed by just how in awe of you he is.

“Hey there gorgeous,” he winks, slipping his belt off with one hand and undoing his pants, “how you feeling?”

“Good,” you eye the huge bulge that's hiding behind those tight ass underpants.

“Just good?” He leans over you rubbing said bulge into the mess you've made between your thighs, “well that won't do,” he reaches down freeing his huge cock from the confines and rubbing it thigh your juices, “my pretty little wife deserves better than good,” he slams it down onto your clit, “especially after she made me such a nice dinner,” the thick head of his cock slips right into your awaiting pussy. 

“Billy,” you moan as he reaches almost to your throat with how deep he is.

“Yes, little wife,” he pulls back only.to somehow get deeper, “keep saying my name.”

You try to reach for him, only for his hand to grasp your wrist's and hold them over your head. He leans down and finally his lips meet yours, the salty taste of your cum floods your mouth when his tongue parts your lips. You feel the familiar butterflies that his kiss brings every single time start to swirl in your tummy and lean up into him, desperate to feel every piece of him.

“Fuck  you feel like fuckin heaven,” he moans into your mouth as he fucks you hard and deep into the kitchen counter, “wrap those pretty legs around me,” his grip on your wrists tighten as your heels dig into his ass, “good girl,” he sputters lifting your ass over the edge of the counter and bending your back, “take me so well,” his eyes drifting over your sweaty chest and down to where his cock is disappearing into you, “made for me.”

“Yes, God, yes,” you moan as his cock grazes over your most sensitive insides and his pelvis brushes against your clit.

“Yes, little wife. I am your God,” he releases your hands only to wrap his fingers around your throat, “tell me”

“Yours,” your breath shaky and uneven as your mind clears and full to the brim with Billy Russo and his thick cock.

“Good girl,” his pace starts to falter, his breathing getting heavier and his eyes locked with yours “keep going.”

“Your little wife,” your tighten your legs around him, giving him less space to withdraw, “all yours.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants into your mouth,” fuck me, ah, fuck me, yes, baby, fuck me back,” he chants as your hips rise to meet his, using him as an anchor to pull yourself onto his cock.

“Yours Billy,” you moan in return, holding his shoulders and digging your nails into the hard flesh, “you own me.”

“Shit, darling. I'm gunna cum,” he doesn't hold back, grinding his cock down into you and the rush of it sends you right over the edge with him until you're both a heaving mess on the counter.

It takes minutes for you both to start breathing normally again, the pair of you lost in trying to catch your breath while your lips lock together. “Missed you today,” Billy says as he eases you from the counter and onto your shaky legs, “did you have a good day my love?”

“It's much better now,” you smile, falling into him when your legs buckle underneath you. “Do you want some pie?”

“Apple?”

“Peach,”

“My favourite.”

“I know.”

“I’ll grab it. Is there ice-cream?”

“Is there ice-cream he says? Check the freezer.”

“Hokey pokey,” he smiles, he scoops you up, kissing you on the cheek as he carries you to the couch, “You’ve been so good for me, little wife. Let me get the pie ready, you pick a movie for us to watch.”

“Will you feed me?”

“You keep looking at me like that pretty girl and I’ll feed you my cum instead.”

Taglist: Ok, Lets see if I can remember everyone. Plz tell me if I forgot you.

@imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @weallhaveadestiny

@wherethesunshinesblog @fictional-hooman

@profoundme444 @sweetheart-im-the-boss

@noortsshift @blackbirddaredevil23

@misstimeless @restingbitchsblog @hummelmi

@nyctophiliiiiaaa

[somajean]

Okay. I have a weird input on this one. My younger daughter wants to be a SAHM and tradwife. Not because it is easy but because it is the "right thing for her" she says. I gave that girl every avenue of artistic and educational freedom physically possible for me to provide. And I'm not upset she chose that life- but everyone around her says that she's choosing a hard job. Cleaning all damn day and night and cooking and sacrificing your sleep schedule to a child(s) on TOP of knowing material to help them learn, on TOP of intentionally binding yourself into a financial position? Yeah. It's hard work and terrifying. I have been, and I am, a single parent. This isn't the same as a SAHM but knowing what my child saw as she grew older, she was dead set on choosing that as her career.

And make no mistake, I firmly believe it is a career. It is laborious, breakless, often thankless work. And the only reason to do it is devotion and love, or fear for your own life and future. I find nothing wrong with the career of a SAHP but I think that the tradwife trends need to show the reality of it all that even if you aren't "going out to a job" or "handling the money" you are still working, and working more hours on average than your spouse. If your job is house mouse, safety nets and government protections often won't extend to you because you "haven't worked." If anyone below me has tutorials or resources, please PLEASE chime in on this. There is NOTHING wrong with going the tradwife route. But we need to get people resources for the job and make sure they know what they are walking into. We can be the resource that floats around and helps people with these things!

From my own single parent experience? Non exhaustive list here but just general things people should know how to do or find? Budgeting, deal finding at markets, haggling if it's in your culture, local food/shelter/counseling support locations, basic sewing, basic first responder or injury care, cooking, how to properly clean, how to allot time to tasks, dealing with burnout, how to exercise in a confined space, psychiatric services for checkups on you and the kids, diet and food health (this includes how to substitute food items for different consistency or picky eaters or allergens), how to structure a time table for yourself and the kids, resources to free books and stories, how to find safe local events, schooling and zoning information (trust me you'll absolutely need this wherever you live). Anything you want your child to learn in life, you need to model it, be able to teach it, or be ready to get the resources for someone else to help your child. If there is no appropriate resource available to teach SAHP these skills for a damn hard job, then we can make the resource, make it popular and send it on its way.

man the weird new romanticization of tradwife/sahm stuff is honest to god so fucking depressing. its so fucking privileged and white and evil. imagine being given rights and then complaining about them when meanwhile there are little brown girls who cant even get an education.

there are women trapped in abusive relationships who literally cannot get a divorce and even if they could they couldnt support themselves because they werent able to get an education and have no outside work experience. very frustrating and upsetting.

like this is coming from the working wife of a stay at home spouse, like i am not the home maker, thats not what i want from my life and what makes me feel fulfilled and happy. but thats something weve heavily discussed. we have different wants and needs and priorities from our work and home life balances. my partner has options and chooses this. but it scares the SHIT out of me seeing this whole "why did we ever fight for the right to work? i want to be a brainless wifey who spits out babies and slaves away in the home and only speaks when spoken to!" bullshit actually pick up because of social media is absolutely fucking horrifying. like its unironically so fucking scary.

[hearth-and-veil]

Fun fact: Kitchen Witchcraft and Consumption Spells are not the same thing!

Kitchen Witchcraft is a mostly safe form of magic that involves things like cooking your will into food, using ingredients in a dish to cast spells, and things like that.

Consumption spells are an old ass form of folk magic that irrevocably* binds you to a spell by taking it into your body.

Consumption spells are tricky, dangerous, and inherently unsuitable for certain types of practitioners, including, but not limited to, actual empaths. I practice consumption spells. They are intense. They are really easy to mess up and the consequences can be devastating.

I mean, something called "Burnt Blood Oath Chalice" should really send off alarm bells.

If someone tries to get you to participate in a consumption spell (or spell eating, curse eating, or anything along those lines - it's all the same thing) RUN for the hills. I mean, you can do it. Just be aware of how dangerous and difficult it is. How much do you trust this person? Are you certain they can (and will) fix things if something goes wrong? Are you certain you can handle it?

*I say irrevocably binding, but they can be undone by someone who knows how. But however difficult it is to correctly do a consumption spell, it is about 5 times as difficult to properly undo one - 10 times with the magic intact. Y'all may remember a few months ago when I fed a curse to an empath and it didn't go well? (In my defense, I had never met an actual empath before!) As experienced as I am, it took me almost a month to recover from taking the spell from her. Part of that is because I did it with the magic intact and then reconsumed it myself, and reconsumption is more difficult than initial consumption, but it would have been draining either way.

Someone who was not involved in the initial spell can also take a spell (consumption or not) from another person. Ever heard of sin eating? That's a type of sympathetic consumption magic. The person who removes the spell can then release it (difficult to ensure you got it all), or consume it themselves. If they consume, their two options are to continue the spell or purge it from themselves. Some choose to consume then purge, instead of just straight releasing, so that they know if they got all of the magic out.

But anyway, I reiterate, I don't recommend you do this. AND: it can neither be taught nor completed virtually. It has to be taught, and done, in person. Trust me. If someone is telling you the steps for consumption, it won't work, because there's one final step to the teaching that can only be done live and in person. That is your sign of whether or not this person knows what they're doing when they're teaching you.

I will not teach you. But if someone else is saying they'll teach you, feel free to message me with that they're teaching you and I will verify or deny. "But Auntie Mags, everybody does things differently!" Not that differently. There are little quirks to each practice, but I can promise you that, with this, there will be the same overarching structure. Especially with the final teaching. I don't say that about most magic, but some forms of magic, it actually is true.

[gallavich-headcanon]

anon, dear, i hope you're doing good! i might be in the brain goo - still, bear with me on the being comprehensible part -, but a) you asked for headcanons and b) you're my favourite person to contemplate with, so you'll be my victim tonight-

so, i know you've said somewhere you're not a big fan of time pieces, BUT-

i've read a lot (like. A LOT.) of medieval-ish things the last couple days and spotify graced me with a shitton of ukrainian music today, and now all i can think about is this tradition they got in ukraine in july where they gather around a fire, take their loved ones by the hand, and if they stay locked while jumping over the fire they they'll have a long and happy relationship (bonus: you can do this with friends for health and good fortune, too). they have this other thing, too, where the unmarried women bind wildflowers to wreaths, then set them on a river or pond or whatever to see who'll get married soon (if your wreath flows without problems and moves a bit it's you), and their significant others try to guess which wreath is their girl's and they tryna fish it out-

and listen, listen, i KNOW it probably doesn't make much sense, and i have not thought this through 'till the end, but i need irish ian to somehow end up in ukraine and in the hands and care of mandy, who tries to teach him their ways and their language, because he's kind and sweet, too - and maybe she first hopes he's her wildcard out of her life until she gets to know he's gay? -, and somehow she gets mickey involved in her little social project and she tries very hard to make him be nice to ian, long story short, they all go to the festivities together, get a little drunk maybe and do their little traditions. while it's a rite for the women, i bet mandy'd force him to bind a wreath, still. and maybe she already knows there's something going on between him and her brother and she schemes some more to make mickey fish ian's out of the water, i don't know, my brain doesn't cooperate properly.

bonus lore- iirc they have this magic flower they set out to search at some point, too, as it's said to grant its finder some sort of power, so, just please, mickey and ian having an excuse to disappear in the woods for hours without anybody asking questions.

i only just now realised it's actually a full on au, but i'll send it over anyway, because it's juvenile and mostly lighthearted and i needed to bother someone with it. much love! thanksokaybye.

Hello my darling! My brain is also gooey possibly because it's late though. Perfect time to be your victim of choice!

Disclaimer- I don't really have anything about historical stories, it's just the homophobia of it all, you know? Like I enjoy some angst as much as the next person, but knowing they can't get married and will have to live partially in secret if not in the closet just... spoils it for me. I'm a comfort first, angst second kinda girl, but I also don't want it to be completely unrealistic. (also I need Mickey to be a southside shit talker) So I tend to skip those fics. now that that's out of the way, I'm ready for yours!

FIRST OF ALL I am a sucker for Mickey speaking Ukrainian. I really wish we got that in canon. AND IAN TRYING TO LEARN THAT FOR HIM 💔💔💔💔

they gather around a fire, take their loved ones by the hand, and if they stay locked while jumping over the fire they they'll have a long and happy relationship -> oh my god are you kidding me this sounds so fucking magical!

Okay what if Ian is like injured or something and Mandy finds him, and hides him until he can get better and Mickey is suspicious and follows her one day?

and maybe she already knows there's something going on between him and her brother and she schemes some more to make mickey fish ian's out of the water -> mmm how about yes yes and yes!!!

This is so fucking sweet. I want Ian in a flower crown Mandy made him! and maybe it's too small to his giant head and his looks funny and Mickey teases him and eventually that flower crown mysteriously finds it's way to Mickey's head. because that's what flower crowns do.

Them just walking in the forest and talking for hours. Maybe they find a job for Ian that gets them to hang out and Mickey teaches him Ukrainian?

NOSHO please send any and all AU / thoughts / headcanons always and forever!

[edasnest]

Might you have any Raeda headcanons you'd be willing to share?

Oh shit I didn’t see that you sent this to me until now oh man.

But you better believe I’ve got some Raeda headcanons >:D

[Spoilers for Eda’s Requiem and Knock Knock Knockin on Hooty’s Door! Also a little bit of a character study regarding those eps lol]

Raine is constantly in awe of Eda. Eda’s desire to learn every kind of magic and buck tradition and societal norms sometimes leaves them breathless. When they were young, Raine always admired Eda for the clever pranks she’d pull using different kinds of magic despite being in the potions track. They also admired Eda’s boldness when it came to standing up for herself and her sister.

Eda found Raine to be interesting considering they were in the bard track despite their stage fright, but once Eda watched them perform and saw how they’d lose themself in the music was, no pun intended, magical. They had a fierce grip on Eda’s heart and she didn’t know why; she was fascinated by Raine and made it her goal to be best friends with this oddly shy bard (which she achieved pretty quickly).

After Eda’s curse caused her to unintentionally disable her dad, she was terrified of what it would mean if she was caught off guard like that again. So she started putting up walls. No stressful situations, no hard conversations, no sudden bright lights or loud sounds that she wasn’t the cause of. If she could be in control of her surroundings, she could control the Owl Beast. The elixir she’d discovered that could keep the curse’s side effects at bay helped maintain her sanity and her chill demeanor, but Raine was able to tell she was always slightly on edge. Raine knew about the curse; after Eda had transformed on the Grudgby field the first time everyone had been talking about it, but they didn’t know the extent of it. Everyone just said she’d turned into a monster and then fled; but what kind of monster?? But every time Raine tried to get more information about it, Eda would brush it off and change the subject. It broke their heart watching Eda brush off something that was clearly bothering her, and eventually it all came to a head. She was lying more and more often to Raine and they just couldn’t take it anymore. What happened to their best friend??? Why would she lie to them????? It was maddening and all the frustration and aching in their heart became too much. They needed to focus on something other than Eda. They weren’t nearly as bold as Eda, even after all these years, so they joined the Bard Coven in order to start teaching and building a career for themself. They’d happily welcome Eda back if she’d just tell them what was going on. But it never happened. Burying themself into their work and then, eventually, into the BAtTs helped keep the heartache at bay, but only sometimes.

Eda and Raine caught glimpses of each other as the years passed. They’d spot one another in the market or Raine would see a flash of unmistakable ginger hair dashing around a corner; sometimes they’d hear Eda yelling at some Coven guards and quietly hope she’d make her escape. Eda would occasionally see posters advertising a performance starring Raine; she’d either buy a ticket or sneak in just to listen to them play again. She could never stay for very long though because listening to them play made her heart hurt so much she’d be at risk of turning into the Owl Beast. Raine grabbed one of Eda’s wanted posters and keeps it hidden under some other paperwork in their desk, pulling it out sometimes and going over every detail of the artist’s rendition of her. One day, a new wanted poster came out - this one with a weird skull dog now part of the image and the bounty having increased significantly. Raine would always smirk whenever they saw the new version, although they were alarmed the first time they saw her drawn with all-grey hair. When had that happened? They weren’t that old yet, right??

The day Eda saved the BAtTs and figured out Raine’s secret was maybe the best day Raine had had in years. Their best friend was talking to them again, helping them with their plot. Raine didn’t bother pushing Eda about the last 20 years; their last conversation proved enough that Eda didn’t like it when people pried. But Eda had become not just older, but so much more kind and open. To a degree that sort of shocked Raine. When they asked Eda if she had nothing to lose and Eda took their hand, it was like they’d gone back in time. As if they were both 20 again and daydreaming about a world they’d create for themselves where covens weren’t there to shackle witches down and stage fright didn’t exist; where Eda’s curse never happened and they could stay there on that hill forever.

Eda of course was warring with her own emotions during all of this; she was under the impression that everyone in her life was leaving her again. And not because she was pushing them away this time, but of their own volition. She got her big sister back only for her to go back home to their parents after just a few weeks. She overheard King talk about leaving to find his dad and her apprentice - the first person to ever break down all of Eda’s defenses and show her how to love again - was constantly working on ways to go back to her own home. Eda would be left with Hooty and Owlbert and absolutely nobody else and that hurt so much more than she cared to admit. So when Raine showed up in the town square with their BAtT mask on, using their magic to turn some coven guards into bumbling fools, Eda was a little shell-shocked. The first person to leave her of their own volition was right there in front of her and needed help. So she helped them. And when she became invested in their plots to free wild witches, she felt like she was a teenager again, plotting out pranks with Raine in her secret shortcuts room at Hexside, blushing at every interaction they had because even after all this time, Raine was still Raine. Her Rainstorm. It was like she was starting over, like the last 20 years had faded away, except they hadn’t. Because Luz and King were competing in a race that she needed to be there for. Her past and her present were all different types of painful but finding Raine like this again gave her so much hope! Until she realized she wouldn’t see the end of that race, not if it meant stopping Belos. And she was ready for that, ready for the pain to just stop already, but Raine wouldn’t let her.

Losing Raine again was so much worse the second time. But what they said stayed with her and Eda needed to get back to King and Luz. So when she got back and discovered they’d lost, of course her first thought was to help them. Anything to take her mind off of what she’d just lost. And when King announced that he wasn’t leaving at all, he was legally changing his name? She was “stuck” with him forever? That was too much and she just couldn’t hold it in anymore. Someone wasn’t leaving her. In fact he was legally binding himself to her. No one was leaving, at least not any time soon. Eda definitely still cried more that night after King and Luz had gone to bed.

In the future, Eda and Raine agree to start from scratch: Eda explains the curse to them in detail, all the things she’s learned about it over the years and specifically with Luz and King and Hooty’s help. She explains that Lilith was the one that gave it to her to begin with and why (Raine is appalled like???? Raine specifically worked with Lilith in that last year before they had been made head of the Bard Coven?? And Lilith showed maybe irritation at best at the mention of Eda, so like?? What the fuck???). Eda also explains how she’s come to accept the curse as something that’s part of her and the history the Owl Beast has that she got a glimpse of which is super intriguing to Raine. Also Harpy Eda was a thing which was maybe the most surprising part of it all.

Raine in the meantime tells Eda about their time working their way up the ranks of the Bard Coven, how they met each of the BAtTs and recruited them, the façade they had to maintain to stay on track to become the head of the Bard Coven (something that greatly impressed Eda given Raine’s history with being an awkward actor).

Eda introduces Raine to Luz and King to which both of them start shooting rapidfire questions at them and overwhelm them pretty quickly. Eda has to shoo the two away before Raine just bursts out laughing, saying something about how they’re definitely Eda’s kids (all of them blush while Raine is laughing). Luz is just as fascinated with Raine’s Bard magic as Eda was when they first met and the similarities between the two are striking. Raine tells Eda as much later on and Eda begins gushing about what a great apprentice Luz is and everything she’s done during her time on the Boiling Isles.

They fall easily back into dating once they reconnect properly and everything’s calmed down a little - Raine will still be humming a piece they’re working on and suddenly grab Eda and begin dancing to the tune, Eda laughing the whole time and making their heart soar. Eda will still play with Raine’s earring when they’re cuddled up together just chatting. Raine will start asking Eda again for her opinion on musical pieces they’re working on and Eda will make suggestions along with some jokes or snide commentary. They both still love watching the clouds overhead on their hill, sometimes playing music, sometimes just holding hands.

Raine loves watching Eda interact with Luz and King. They love watching how easily Eda loves them and how much she’s changed since they first broke up. Once they’re alone together, in a moment total admiration for how far they’ve come, Raine tells Eda they love her. Eda immediately kisses them and starts crying, repeating Raine’s words back to them and mumbling about how she’ll never let Raine leave ever again.

A canon Non-binary love interest to a main character that uses They/Them pronouns??? In my kids cartoon???? It’s more likely than you think.

Anyways I fucking love Raine and I love how much Eda and Raine love each other and I can’t wait to see what ends up happening with Them™️