⭑ taylor swift. reading. writing. marvel. billie eilish. lana del rey. the pitt. guitar. piano. obx. sturniolo triplets. jnj. tara yummy. baking. star wars. ⭑
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⭑ absolutely no racism, homophobia, xenophobia, and transphobia! if you interact with bigotry, you will be blocked! ⭑
lastly, mental health matters! if you’re struggling, reach out to someone you can trust or call 988. (u.s. and canada mental health helpline)
happiest 23rd birthday to the sweetest boys :)) although, i have lost interest in them for a while, i will always remember how much they mean to me and made me laugh. they did save me at one point, but things can change. i remember when they were just 17 and starting their youtube journey. it’s been so amazing watching them grow up and become better people, not only for the fans, but for themselves too. i was in the fandom for 5 years, and they were the best 5 years of my life. though, this fandom is super toxic at times, i still made a ton of friends and discovered my love for them.
i’m wishing them the happiest birthday, and i hope it is filled with nothing but cheers and laughter. these boys deserve the world, and i hope they know how much the fandom values them. ♡♡
matt is so pretty 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭oh my gosh😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭and handsome and gorgeous 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭in every way possible 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭i love matt 😭😭😭😭😭😭so much 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
[ smut, sub!reader, dom!chris, making out, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, public sexc, getting caught kinda, etc. requested by anon. ]
ৎ୭~ৎ୭~ৎ୭
the water was colder than you'd expected.
you floated onto your back, letting yourself drift across the quiet pool, the muffled bass from inside the house barely reaching the far end of the yard. the laughter and music blended into distant background noise, which is exactly why'd come here.
peace. quiet. a small break from seeing...
you flinched when a wave rolled across the water, smacking you straight in the face, a loud splash shattering your moment alone. you sputter, wiping water from your eyes, cursing under your breath. you shake your head, treading water, looking around for whoever just ruined your peaceful soak. the moon reflects on the surface, the music from the main party still pounding in the distance.
but now he's here, surfacing a few feet away, pushing his soaked hair back with his hand.
"...seriously?!"
"what?" chris asks innocently, grinning.
"are you sick in the head?! you couldn't have used the other pool?!"
"i totally could've," he replies, eyes flicking over your frustrated face. "but you can't have a whole pool to y'self, can ya?"
you give him a flat look, pushing yourself forward, swimming toward the opposite side of the pool. he follows, swimming smoothly across the water like a predator tracking prey. the alcohol had loosened his usual controlled edges, a reckless energy in his strokes now. "gonna pretend m'not here?" he calls after you.
"been doing a good job all night."
true— your mutual friend threw a pool party, inviting literally everyone from campus, unfortunately including the frat, so you were forced to see chris the whole time. you two have been ignoring each other as much as possible, considering the fact your friends were here, but you'd lie, if you said you weren't watching him from time to time, just like he was watching you.
"ouch," he puts a dramatic hand on his chest. "you wound me."
"that would’ve required me caring whether your feelings got hurt.”
he scoffs and smirks, watching how you swim away. "you swim like an old lady."
you stopped long enough to glance over your shoulder. "huh?"
"heard me."
"you've seen old ladies swim?"
"a couple."
"i'm concerned."
you hear him snort and you swim farther away, stopping on the other side of fhe pool. "really, though, you gonna explain yourself?" you ask, but you get complete silence in response. you frown, turning around, the surface of the water settled almost completely and chris nowhere to be found. "...chris?"
he stays completely submerged, watching you from below like a shark, his feet digging into the bottom of the pool as he glides slightly across, making no sound. you hear the distant music, feel the chill of the water, wondering if he actually left you alone. though you didn't hear him getting out of the pool.
you frowned, treading water as you looked around again, the pool lights barely reaching the deep end, everything beneath the surface faded in dark blue.
"seriously?" you scoffed and scanned the water again, trying to spot him anywhere. "you're so annoying, i swear—"
just as you start to turn your head to scan the other side, two hands suddenly grip your ankles underwater. you yelp, balance slipping immediately as you get yanked downward beneath the surface.
cold water swallows you whole, eyes snapping shut on instinct as bubbles rush past your face, the world dissolving into muffled sound. the pressure around your ankles disappears and you kick upward, breaking through the surface with a sharp gasp, immediately pushing the soaked hair out of your face.
"what the fuck is wrong with you?!" you coughed, blinking water from your eyes. mascara left faint dark smudges beneath your lashes. "are you sick in the head?!"
chris surfaced right in front of your face, laughing, eyes dark with amusement and alcohol. "got scared?" he grins, looking entirely unbothered. he pushes his hair back, water dripping down his nose, eyes locking onto your smeared mascara. "you looked too peaceful, it was annoying," he shrugs, treading water effortlessly. "plus, you deserved that."
you glare at him, scrubbing at the smudged mascara beneath your eyes, only succeeding in making it worse. "stop laughing," you say when he doesn't even hide his amusement. "i'm serious. you're insane."
"and you still talkin' t'me," he shoots back.
"no, you're talking to me," you correct him. "this isn't funny. i got alcohol in my veins, i could've drown. what'd you do then?"
he looks at your serious expression and bursts out laughing again. your eyes narrow and you splash a handful of water straight into his face. he barely reacts, if anything his grin grows wider. "you're a fucking idiot."
"i've been called worse," he remarks. "you've usually got a bunch of insults ready within the first five minutes of seein' me."
"and somehow you still haven't taken a hint," you give him a fake smile, then glaring at him again.
"mm," he wipes the water from his eyes. "i know it's your weird way of flirtin'."
you stare at him in disbelief. "are you actually concussed?"
he swims closer, tilting his head. "c'mon, quit actin' like you can't stand me, when you enjoy my presence."
you blink, waiting for him to say he's joking, but he doesn't. that's when you let out an incredulous laugh. "you really are delusional, oh my god," you shake your head, pressing a hand to your forehead.
chris watches you for a second, that smug grin never leaving his face. "delusional?” he repeats. “that's a strong word from someone who keeps endin' up wherever i am.”
you let out a dry laugh, "please. you're the one being wherever i am. it's been like that before and it hasn't changed at all."
"interesting observation," he replies sarcastically, lazily swimming another stroke closer, invading your space. he watches your attempts to fix your ruined makeup, eyes trailing over the wet mascara smudges and water dripping down your face. "y'look like a raccoon," he says. "leave 'em eyes alone."
"don't tell me what to do," you shoot back.
"just sayin'," he shrugs, completely unbothered by your glare. "ya missed a spot," he points at your cheek. you slap his hand away, "can you shut up?"
"make me."
"i'm considering drowning you."
"good luck with that," he scoffs with a smirk. he doesn't look threatened in the slightest, just entertained. "i'd drag you down with me before you even got a hand on my neck." he moves his hands, creating another little splash.
"fuck, stop," you snap, turning your head around and closing your eyes to avoid getting water in them again.
"aw, can't you be fun for once?" he asks sarcastically, splashing again. his voice is smooth, dripping with that arrogant edge that used to make your blood boil.
still does.
you inhale deeply, staring at him with narrowed eyes. the silence stretches between you, muddled by alcohol, by the distant party music, by the fact that you haven't spoken all night until now. his eyes drop to your lips, then back up.
"i'm trying to figure out what's the easiest way to murder you and not get caught," you speak up.
"mmm, violent fantasies tonight. i like that," he mutters, completely unbothered, moving even closer in the water, until he's right in front of you and you have to look up. "you'd fail miserably," he adds.
"don't underestimate me, sturniolo."
his grin widens, tongue pressing into the inside of his cheek. he backs you into a corner, watching your eyes flickering to his face, then to the water surrounding you two.
"trapped," he slurrs slightly.
"i'm not scared of you, dumbass," you hold his gaze.
"should be," his voice drops an octave. he leans in closer, bracketing you against the pool edge. there's nowhere left to go, the wall is at your back and he's blocking the water in front of you. "i just dragged ya under," he reminds you. "could do it again."
you wet your bottom lip and his eyes drop again, jaw tightening for a split second before he forces his gaze back up to meet yours. the air between you feels heavy.
"i'll drag you with me this time," you finally reply.
he lets out something between a low groan and an annoyed scoff, moving in an instant to close the remaining distance. his lips crashed against yours, your fingers instinctively finding his shoulder to steady yourself as the water shifted beneath you. your lips respond and the kiss turns messy immediately. you taste the faint bitterness of beer, his hand slides into your wet hair to angle your head, kissing like he wants to swallow you whole. teeth clicking, tongues tangling, zero restraint.
your arms wrap around his shoulders as the kiss deepens. you're giving him every ounce of that resentment, every insult you never said, your fingers digging into the back of his neck. he kisses you like he wants to devour and destroy you at the same time, hands sliding down your body, gripping your thighs and picking you up effortlessly, water sloshing violently around you as your legs lock around his waist. the friction is immediate, hard and undeniable through his wet swim trunks. his cock presses right against you and you moan into his mouth, when he rolls his hips forward just to make sure you feel it— and you do. that hard ridge pressing through fabric, and you grind against him automatically, nails scraping his scalp as you pull his mouth harder against yours. he meets your grind with a sharp roll of his hips, rutting up into you, his erection dragging directly over your clit through the wet fabric.
"don't know if you this soaked from me or the water," he mutters against your lips, breaking the kiss to get some air.
your eyes flutter open, "doesn't make a difference."
"mhm, right," he hums, hand moving between your bodies, his fingers clumsy and urgent, hooking into the waistband of his trunks. "i'll make ya moan my name either way. here, in this pool, where everyone could see us."
you look around, hearing the distant music, people talking and laughing inside the house. anyone could leave any moment, and if they turn on the lights outside, you're fucked. especially that his brothers are here as well, and nick would give you shit for this, if he knew you're fucking around with chris again. he only ever wanted you two to be good, but not this good, when chris has done you dirty last year.
"gotta be careful then, no?" you ask, deciding to take the risk. he smirks, the alcohol making his movements slower than he wants, the wet fabric fighting him, but he manages to yank down his shorts, freeing himself, the water instantly cooling overhead skin.
"you're really bad at resistin' me," he replies.
"you talk too much."
he snorts, pushing your bikini to the side and guiding himself to your entrance, rubbing against your slit. you bite down on your lower lip. "so are you gonna ask me nicely to fuck your pretty pussy?"
your eyes narrow at him, his pulpils blown wide. "i gotta ask?"
you were absolutely soaked, dripping, slick and ready. the water hasn't diluted it, if anything, it's made you wetter. the tip of him slides against your opening, teasing for a second. "could just admit you missed this," he mutters, pushing in just enough for you to feel it and then pulling out. "missed my dick, 'cus no one else can do it like i do. we both know it."
"you're really full of yourself, chris."
"and you full of shit," he remarks. "you act all annoyed and then lemme do this," he pushes in again, rougher this time, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. the water resists, slowing the movement, but not enough, getting a moan out of you.
you clamp around him immediately, tight grip pulling him deeper, eyebrows drawing together and you inhale sharply through your teeth. he doesn't give you time, pulling back and sliming into you again, his grip on your thighs tightens to bruising levels.
"fuckk— oh god, chris—" you moan despite yourself, head tilting back, exposing your throat.
"yeaaaah, louder," he mumbles, starting to fuck you properly now, deep strokes that make the water ripple violently around you. "let 'em hear how good i'm makin' ya feel. how bad you love when i fuck you."
"mmhh— fuck.... you're so...annoying...—"
"is that so?" he places kisses down your throat, marking your skin. each thrust pulls a noise out of you, each retreat leaves you aching for more.
he catches your lip between his teeth mid thrust, getting a gasp from you, the water sloshing around you, splashing over the edges. your walls clench around him everytime he bottoms out. "fuck, you're always so tight, i love this shit," he groans, lifting you higher to change the angle, so he can hit deeper. the thought of someone walking out and seeing him fucking you senseless, makes him rougher than usual and you're loving it.
"nothin' smart to say this time?" he mutters against your ear, when your head drops forward against his shoulder. "shut up— oh— shittt...." you whimper, completely losing it, when his hand wraps around your throat, urging you to lift your head, your pulse thudding beneath his fingers.
"eyes on me," he demands, his own watching your face, jaw tight. the alcohol turns everything into a blur. his own pleasure, your pleasure, the distance from the house, the noise— everything except the way you clamp around his cock. it was ridiculous how intensely your body reacted to something so simple. you felt almost dizzy, heat spreading through you way too quickly, heartbeat kicking hard against your ribs.
"c-chris—" you stutter, when his thrusts turn sharper, more precise, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes your vision blur. one of his hands move from your thigh to grab your ass, fingers digging into wet skin.
"that's it, c'mon," his other hand presses harder against your throat, measuring your reaction. your eyes roll back, mouth falls open in that completely broken expression and it almost destroys him. the water adds resistance, making every thrust heavier.
his voice drops to a low, rough whisper against your ear, punctuated by harsh thrusts. "y'like that? being fucked like this in the middle of the pool? anyone could walk out and see me chokin' you, while i ruin this little pussy."
"fuck— stop... talking...." you moan, but the way your walls clench, taking him deeper, tells him everything he needs to know.
his lips curve into a smirk. "wanna try to talk back? you're too busy gettin' fucked to breathe right now." he moves his hips hard, hitting that spot again and again, knowing that makes you see stars. his hips move with a brutal rhythm, taking advantage of the water's buoyancy to lift you and slam back down on his cock.
"holy fuckkk— ah—!"
the hand on your throat slides up to wrap around your jaw, thumb pressing against your bottom lip, pushing it down. the other one leaves your ass to wrap around your waist, holding you in place for his brutal thrusts. the water churns around you, sending small waves over the side of the pool. "so fuckin' tight," he groans. "and loud. it's like you want 'em to hear us."
that pushes you over the edge, completely.
your mouth wraps around his thumb to muffle the loud noises that were escaping you now. the sudden tightness of your pussy milking his dick, makes him come almost immediately as well. he bites down on your shoulder to muffle his own groan, fingers digging into your skin harshly as he fucks you through your orgasm, drawing it out, making it last longer. his thrusts turn sloppy, less controlled, as he empties himself into you. when he finally stills, he's buried deep, the water around you slowly settles. "fuck," *he mumbles against your skin.
he had barely stopped moving when the sound of the terrace doors opening made you freeze.
a burst of laughter followed and your eyes went wide.
oh my god.
chris, on the other hand, only lazily glanced over your shoulder, seemingly far less concerned.
"yo, chris!" you heard.
nate.
you didn’t even think.
you immediately pushed yourself and chris lower into the water, practically ducking you both beneath the surface. he let out what sounded suspiciously like a laugh underwater, completely unbothered by the situation.
you quickly untangled your legs from around him and swam a few feet away, turning your back to him as you fixed your bikini and tried to get your breathing under control.
a few seconds later, you two surfaced from opposite sides of the pool. you wiped the water from your face, climbing out of the water as nonchalant as possible.
nate stopped by the edge, looking between you and grinning, but his eyes then narrowed. chris stood next to you now, nate's eyes moving between you both back and forth.
there was a small pause.
"deadass?" nate finally speaks, giving you two a look.
you closed your eyes.
"in the pool?!"
"quiet," you shush him, glaring at him. nate snorts, shaking his head. "you two really couldn't wait to get inside?"
"that's not—"
"i get it now," he says, looking at chris with a bigger grin. "why he's been so stubborn 'bout ya," he looks back at you. "you're just like him. freak matched. oh god, you weirdos, people swim in there."
now your eyes narrow. "you don't seem exactly surprised...." then you glance at chris who was standing there with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. your jaw nearly drops. "oh god you know? he knows—? you told him?!"
"did he tell me you're hookin' up again?" nate raises his eyebrows. "wasn't that pretty obvious?"
"it happened," chris shrugs. you slap his arm, "i told you not to tell anyone!"
"c'mon, s'just me," nate says. "it's none of my business, really. i won't tell anyone."
"you better not."
"m'not," he promises, still grinning. he tilts his head and looks at the pool. "so as a good future uncle, i may resign from swimmin' in here. y'know, your kids are somewhere in that water, floating 'round—"
chris rolled his eyes and scoffed.
"oh god," you give them one last murderous look, before walking back toward the house, grabbing a towel from the chair on your way there.
"what? i don't wanna hurt chris junior by accident. or little chrissy."
one last thing you heard was how chris told nate to shut the fuck up. then you were already inside, rubbing your temples.
you wanted to erase those last words from your memory.
in which . . . dilf!chris and babysitter!reader fantasise about each other.
⚠︎ age gap, male masturbation, icky thoughts, sexual guilt, edging
chris knew you’d be trouble the moment you walked through his front door.
not in terms of your job, no – you instantly and effortlessly bonded with his seven-year-old daughter as if the two of you had grown up sisters by blood. no, you’ll be a good babysitter.
the problem lies with… well, a number of things, really. the way your teeth peek through your plump glossy lips each time you flash chris that pretty smile of yours, and the cloying sweet scent of your perfume every time you brush past him, and the bouncy curls in your hair, and your tight–fitted jeans. and the fact that you’re eighteen years younger than him.
chris feels a deep sense of shame each time his thoughts drift in your presence. god, he has friends with kids your age. it isn’t right. and he’ll never say it aloud, but that only makes it more pleasurable when he’s awake long into the early hours of the morning, legs tangled up in his sheets, his fist pumping his cock while he imagines your pretty mouth in its place. so wrong.
he tells himself he'll stop every time he sees your face the next day, smiling all sweet and innocent. you know exactly how to make him feel like a piece of shit without even realising.
not to mention that all the sleepless nights, paired with his constantly distracted mind, are taking a toll on his work. his job is the most important thing to him, after his daughter, and his boss is beginning to pick up on the fact that something is amiss.
no problem. he'll just work later to pick up the extra slack. it's just a coincidence that this means later shifts for you, too. he always pays you double for the extra hours, and chris is sure you don't mind the cosy evenings in his lush apartment; he usually finds you curled up on the couch in his blankets, watching some stupid reality tv show, drinking whatever wine you find in his pantry.
he allows it. you are an exceedingly good employee, after all. summer is always fast asleep by the time he arrives home, and always wakes up disappointed to discover that her beloved babysitter already left in the night.
overall, it isn't a bad situation. yes, he gets a little pent up every now and again, but his daughter really does seem happy, and chris isn't the type to complain about a little eye candy around the apartment. you're the first woman to frequent his home since his wife left, and it's certainly not an unwelcome presence. plus, you still seem to be entirely oblivious to the depraved thoughts he has about you.
you almost killed him last night, though. he came home hours late to find you fast asleep on his couch, looking so sweet and warm in slumber, your lips puffy and slightly parted. his conscience simply wouldn’t allow him to leave you there, sleeping so close to the front door, completely vulnerable. plus, what if you hurt your back sleeping on the uncomfortable couch? you're fragile, you see.
so he scooped you up in his arms, planning to carry you to the more cosy guest bedroom. but when you let out a sleepy whine and wrapped your arms around him, chris swore his heart stopped beating all together. he couldn't waste any more time.
he carried you down the hall to the guest bedroom, tucking you into the bed that hadn’t been occupied for quite some time now. he let out a heavy sigh as he watched the way you instinctively curled up into the blankets before swiftly leaving the room and racing down the hall to his own bedroom. he almost stumbled trying to kick off his jeans, and as soon as he was free from the suffocating fabric, he collapsed into bed to take care of his raging hard-on.
he tucked his shirt between his teeth to stifle his groans, terrified of waking you despite your being deep in sleep on the opposite side of the apartment. his cock twitched eagerly as he peeled his boxers away from his sweaty skin, but he instead reached down to cup his aching balls, palming them gently with the heel of his hand. each time he thinks of you to jerk off, which is most times, he likes to prolong the process, not allowing himself to cum the first time he feels the urge. he likes the reminder that what he’s doing is wrong, that it shouldn’t be so easy for him.
he lifted his hand to brush a thumb against his dripping tip, but he had to withdraw it immediately to stop himself from cumming on the spot. he tilted his head back, his breathing rough and heavy as he waited for the pleasure to subside a little.
he repeated that process a couple more times until his legs were shaking and his teeth were clenching down so hard on his shirt that he thought he might tear the fabric. he couldn’t hold back the needy moan that escaped him as his cum spilled out across his stomach, desperately and repeatedly muttering your name under his breath as the image of you peacefully asleep just down the hall filled his mind.
you’re entirely disoriented when you wake up the next morning. it takes a minute for you to recall falling asleep on chris’s couch last night, and to recognise your surroundings as the guest room chris had shown you on your very first day working for him, when he gave you a quick tour of the apartment.
you yawn and slip out of the bed, still in your makeup and clothes from yesterday. you wander into the kitchen to find chris already up and brewing a coffee.
“oh, you’re awake!” he sets his mug down, accidentally slamming it a little too hard on the countertop as he gives a strained smile.
“did i fall asleep here?” you mumble, your voice still groggy from sleep.
“uh, yeah. you were passed out on the couch when i got home.” he pauses for a second, looking slightly sheepish. “i hope it’s okay that i didn’t wake you. you looked so… comfortable.”
“it’s not a problem, mr sturniolo. are you making coffee?”
“god, how many times do i have to tell you to call me chris? ‘mr sturniolo’ makes me feel so old.” he looks a little more at ease now, smiling as he gestures to the coffee pot. “please, have some. you want something to eat, too?”
not long later, you’re sitting opposite your employer at his kitchen island with a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. you watch him eat his toast while he scrolls the news on his phone, and you can’t help it as your mind starts to drift.
you’ve noticed the way he looks at you, of course. you’d have to be a fool not to. but he’s always polite to you, never oversteps or makes inappropriate comments. you can tell he’s grown unused to having women in the house by his permanent state of being slightly flustered and awkward with you. and you have to admit, it is a little entertaining to provoke him, acting completely innocent as you purposely bend over in front of him to pick up summer’s toys or brush past him a little too closely. just harmless fun.
your eyes focus in on the way his jaw shifts as he chews, and you wonder how long it’s been since he last had sex. he doesn’t exactly seem like he’s active, but he’s an attractive guy. respectful. he has money. why hasn’t he—
“so, uh–” chris clears his throat. “i’m dropping summer off at her mom’s this morning. do you want a ride, too?”
you stare at him blankly for a second before your mind catches up to the present. “oh, that’d be great, thank you mr– uh, chris.”
he smiles and heads into summer’s room, and a few minutes later she walks out clinging onto his hand, her little pink backpack slung over her shoulder, ecstatic at the fact that you’re still here.
you sit in the passenger seat of chris’s car, waiting as he buckles up summer’s seatbelt and walks around to the driver’s seat. he tells you he’ll drop you off first, and as he starts driving, you glance out of the window and start to daydream again.
it’s not the first time chris has dropped you home – sometimes, when he gets back extra late, he worries about you making your way home alone and insists on taking you. but this is your first time being driven home in the morning, and you imagine this must be what it’d be like to have a one night stand with him. making you breakfast and driving you home, like the gentleman he is.
you risk a glance at his hands, large and veiny but gentle as he guides the steering wheel, and you quickly turn away again, starting to feel a little guilty. here is a man doing a kind deed for you after you fell asleep on the job, and now you’re making it dirty. you need to get it together before he catches on.
he pulls up outside your house and gives you a kind smile. “looks like we’re here. you get some good rest, okay kid?”
“i will. thank you, chris.” you say your goodbyes to summer, who tries to convince you to accompany her to her mom’s house, and quickly leave the car. as you’re unlocking the door, you glance over the shoulder to find chris’s car still parked outside, watching to make sure you get inside safely, as he always does.
my first fic for this pairing omg i am so excited 😊
not even a hot take but when you’re black and you have different interests from what black people like, you’re immediately labeled as white washed. especially if you’re a black woman. i am kinda alternative and i listen to alternative music. i ALSO listen to taylor swift too and many other genres. sometimes i’ll get told i “don’t want to be black” because im listening to taylor swift. hello???? like black people don’t ONLY listen to rap and R&B.
also in fan fiction when even black creators are writing a black if they’ll sometimes make them very “hood” which only enforces the negative stereotypes that is as black people get. black women are allowed to be soft and feminine! not every black woman is this hyper masculine crazy woman ready to fight at all times! and in the lgbtq community, black women are always expected to be studs. we can NEVER be accepted as femme.
it’s seriously disgusting how people treat black women specifically. we are people just as much as the next person. and us as black women need to fight these stereotypes.
i’ve seen ppl on here complain about writers only writing smut but i feel like when ppl do write fluff or angst it flops?? like💔💔💔 i dont find the motivation to write when it does bad
it just feeds into the borderline pedophilic euro-centric beauty standards. every virgin woman is not some ditzy little naive girl. it’s gross. a grown woman should not be envisioned as a child. especially not if she’s going to be in smut. it enforces that women should fit into this narrow standard. and just one more time, MAKING A VIRGIN CHARACTER LOOK LIKE A CHILD IS DISGUSTING!!! MAKING A VIRGIN CHARACTER EXTREMELY DITZY AND CHILDLIKE IN KNOWLEDGE IS DISGUSTING!!!!!!
(especially if the character they’re losing their virginity to is some huge man. it seems like ddlg)
chat i drew chris 😛 but idk i kinda like it but i don't at the same time... i wanna fix a lot of stuff but i really can't get myself to draw anymore so it'll probably stay this way for a long while (i'll probably never fix it but whatvr)
his hands 💔 i really need to learn how to draw hands 😭
