#AND THEY'RE WEARING THE RIGHT OUTFITS TOO?!?!?!

[captain-astors]

Finished up my attempt at Deuce within @where-does-the-heart-lie's fighting game AU! Feeling a little iffy about it but I might've just been staring at this for too damn long. Anyways thoughts, symbolism explanation, and sketches I made in the attempt bellow the cut.

Okay! So in general I worked with a rule of 2's when it came to Deuce's hearts with the exception of his camera, but that's supposed to pair with the pen with the little heart cap, I just didn't remember to keep that in my final drawings somewhere. Trying to strike a balance between "Just a guy" and "fun stylized outfit" was hard and I don't think I quite got it, but it was enjoyable nonetheless!

Heart glasses- Representative of how he loves observing the world and aspires to adventure through it. The cracked lens represents how the damage he's received from people he loved has caused him to look at others cynically at times. Meanwhile the unshattered lens sort of represents his tendency to look at those who earn his love with extreme levels of internal praise, half of Ace's first novel is just him waxing poetic about how lovely Ace is and I think that's hilarious.

Hearts on the gloves- He shows his love for the world and for people through the writing he does with his hands! But they're somewhat damaged because they've been utilized for the medicinal legacy that was forced upon him.

Heart on the camera/pen- A specific love for journalism and writing and telling a story, credits to Whery for the first one.

Spade on the shirt- Not technically a heart but it's a little play on how he keeps the Spades close to his heart/tends to be kind of pokey if you try to get close.

Spade/heart on the back of the shirt- Symbolic of the whole life-devoting love within him, so it's large, but it's kept guarded and tethered by the camera strap and can only be seen beneath a layer and if he trusts you enough to turn his back. It's mostly upside-down to look more like a heart if I'm honest, but that as well as that it's on his back and so guarded is all representative of how the family that he presumably once loved shamed and pressured him, making a sort of "weight on his back". It's spade shaped because that's who his devotion and love belongs to, but also when counted with the other one, Deuce!

One of my scrapped ideas was having the coat be a doctor's coat with the only hearts on it being scorched edges because something something fire set him free but he still uses his medicinal abilities to benefit people in his new life, but I couldn't get it to look right so I went with the summery looking thing he's wearing now. It's fine but it kind of lacks a personality, I think that's the main thing I'd try to revise if I redid this but I've already overthought it to hell so. Another day.

Ace in Dr. Robotnik's outfit from the sonic movie is there for facial reference and emotional support I guess, I made that a while ago.

And in one last vaguely related tangent, yours truly has a very distinctly heart-shaped birthmark on my foot. It symbolizes that I'm tired. (Jokes aside I think it's cool, afab actually stood for Assigned Fighting game character At Birth)

[bitchface24-7]

THE GORGEOUS PROFESSOR TALIS

synopsis: You didn't think Professor Viktor was the only heartthrob at Piltover Academy, did you? Meet his charismatic, undeniably gorgeous partner, Professor Talis. But please, call him Jayce.

warnings: again age gap (Jayce’s gotta be anywhere in his 30s-40s to be a professor, reader is in their 20s (early to late I don’t really care) ), power imbalance, switch!jayce, this isn’t gonna be a full on story, just bullet points I come up with, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/f or m/m (implied future m/m/f or m/m/m)

Professor Talis doesn’t have his own class at the Academy, instead he and Professor Viktor alternate in “The Science Behind Magic: HXT101.” The two professors are trying to incorporate a lab aspect to the class; so it's not just theory.

There have been many times Professor Talis (please call me Jayce) has taken over from Viktor due to unforeseen circumstances, such as Viktor having a flare-up in pain and being unable to lecture for three hours straight.

Professor Jayce and Professor Viktor have many similarities. They're passionate, intelligent, and quite funny. But it's their differences that set them apart.

Professor Viktor’s voice is smooth, sultry, and his accent makes everything sound sexy. He's got the perfect voice to do ASMR to make people fall asleep.

Professor Jayce is much more hyper. He talks a bit louder and a bit faster than his partner. But his enthusiasm and bright smile make it endearing to witness.

He's also much broader and taller than Professor Viktor. His shoulders are wide, his waist is narrow, and his thighs are begging to be bitten into.

He's got messy hair, a glorious beard, and a microscopic smattering of grey at his temples. He's got a strong jaw, big eyes, pouty lips, a tantalizing neck, and sinfully beautiful body. He too has a brace, except it's on his opposite leg. And his leg seems to be stronger than his partners.

He's also got incredibly sharp canines. You can't help but squish your thighs together envisioning how they'd feel against your neck, your chest, your thighs.

Professor Jayce seems to enjoy receiving praise just as much as giving it to his students. You'll never forget the time you complemented his teaching style and he got all flushed. Shyly looking down as a sweet smile graced those plump lips.

You wanted to devour that man right then and there.

One day, you almost did.

Professor Talis had just casually walked into the classroom, wearing an all-black outfit with red detailing. His sleeves were rolled up, his hair artfully messy, and his slacks obscenely tight.

You felt like leaping across the desk like a lioness to feast on the meal right before your very eyes.

Professor Jayce seemed to be oblivious to the stares he received. You thought that until he stopped right in front of you; ceasing his walk around the classroom, and his bulge was damn near eye level with you.

It was big. Massive really, and quite girthy from what you could make out in the dark fabric. You coquettishly look up as you suck on your lolly, knowing exactly what you're doing.

Professor Jayce just quirks an eyebrow at you as he taps his finger on your table, making you look down at your sheet of paper, “Have you finished your assignment?”

You can't help but impishly nod, “Yes, Professor Talis.” as you give a long lick on your lollipop before popping it into your mouth.

Professor Talis’ eyes darken as his jaw clenched. He's heard about you from Viktor. The smart, slutty student who has a throat to die for and delectable moans that'll keep your spank bank full until the next time you need them.

Jayce just smirks at you and tells you to stay behind after class, there's something he needs to discuss with you.

You were curious.

You weren't expecting to be folded like a pretzel as your gorgeous professor pounded away into you like it was his last day on earth.

Your body is delectably sore, you're stuffed to the brim in cum, and you have bruises all over your body. Hickies surround your neck and chest, hand shaped bruises are on your hips and thighs. You even have some bite marks. You had a feeling his canines would feel amazing. Called it!

You also called it that Professor Talis enjoys praise and being told what to do. Telling him how good his cock feels and that he's doing amazing really amped him up.

You can't help but wonder how demolished you'll be once both Professor Viktor and Jayce get their hands on you.

(You’ll die very happy and very satisfied)

[paddedlittleparadise]

"Baby's First Christmas" – Ream Teaser

Ever wonder what happens to good little cuckqueans during their first Christmas? Let mommy domme Corinne explain…

–––

"Welcome, welcome! Come on in, folks! It's cold as heck out there, isn't it? Sure, shoes off if you want…"

It's my first Christmas Eve as official lady of the house, and god am I loving it! Henry agreed to let me hold a party for our close friends tonight, and as our glittering tree and wealth of festive decorations make plain, that was all the license I needed to go all out. Honestly, why not? I'm not just Corinne anymore. I'm Mrs. Henry now: housewife, sexily attired hostess, interior decorator, party planner…

Oh yes. And also the capable second mother to Amy. Amy, Henry's former wife… who just earlier this year officially became our ward.

But that's all beside the point right now. Here are our good friends Dawn and Eli, rosy-cheeked and laughing, shrugging out of their coats and scarves and boots in the entryway while I bubble and effuse about how wonderful it is to see them. And I mean it, too! Not only are they going to bring a much-needed dose of socialization to our little household, but they're also going to be amazing interacting with Amy. Because, well…

"Exactly!" I bubble, leading them out into the gloriously festive living room. "It's her first Christmas Eve party since all the changes, you know. Here, where did she crawl off to? Amy! Amy, come out and say hi to our guests!"

Oh, there she comes: dragged reluctantly out of the hallway by my handsome Henry, her sweet Mary Jane shoes scraping and sliding unwillingly along the linoleum. She's done up exactly as I envisioned, too. I mean, just look at that adorable holiday outfit I put together for her! That red-and-green plaid dress! those matching hair ribbons for her pigtails! those frilly socks! those fluffy petticoats! that adorable diaper bum and frilly diaper cover peeking out with every step!

None of it is the sort of thing a twenty-something-year-old woman would normally wear, of course. But by now, every person here knows that Amy is no ordinary young woman.

"Aww! OMG, Corinne – she looks so freaking adorable! You gotta tell me where you got that outfit! And those socks?!" Dawn is squealing like a little girl herself – or rather, like the amused and extroverted girl friend I've always known her to be. Now she's stepping forward, hugging our blushing Little, who waddle-stumbles forward uncertainly into her old acquaintance's embrace. "Hey, there, sweetie! Don't you look festive? Are you excited that Santa will be coming tonight?!"

"Oh, she is," I interject. Amy's pacifier is dangling from the ruched front of her dress, and I stuff it into her mouth to stifle any protests. "It's been soo freaking cute, how excited she is for the holidays! See, earlier this week she wanted to get Christmas presents for me and Henry. But like, she's not exactly in any position to be buying anyone much of anything! So, we worked out a deal: Henry helped her make something for me and wrap it, and I did the same! So now she's got two darling little presents for us over there under the tree…"

I pause, feeling a flutter of delight as I glance down at the diminutive Amy, gazing up at us both with pacified mouth and cheeks pink with embarrassment. "Here, Amy. Why don't you go show Dawn all the presents? Go on, show her…"

Nor is Dawn's enthusiasm lacking. "Ooh – and we can tuck a few more under there, too! See, sweetie? We brought a few little things for you and your parents, too!"

And off they go. God, it's so sweet and laughable seeing my Amy waddling off to the tree. She was complaining like crazy when I was dressing her earlier this afternoon, of course. All fussy with her whines of "noo, I don' wanna diaper! I wanna wear pull-ups!" – as if she was remotely qualified to even try training pants anymore.

Fortunately, even Henry knows better than to listen to her and her silly whimpers. He has my back – which is why he didn't so much as blink when I wrapped her up in those double-thick and double-boosted Megamaxes. "After all, babe," I'd smiled serenely at Henry over her struggling whimpers, "I won't have time to change her during the party. Better safe than sorry!"

Anyway, it's frickin' cute, that ponderous waddle of hers. But busy as I am with the hundred and one things waiting for me in the kitchen, the most I can do right now is call over my shoulder to the trio of adults around the tree. "Hey – when you can, can one of you just check to see if she needs a change?"

It'd take Niagara Falls to soak that diaper she's got on. I know it well. But what's Christmas without a bit of fun? And god, there's little more fun than watching my husband's silly, juvenile little ex-wife blushing and squirming while everyone around her treats her exactly like the baby she deserves to be.

So yeah – it's no surprise when I hear a faint "Oh, yeah – wet. But she'll be good for a lot longer yet!"

In my imagination, the blush in her cheeks is probably just as beet red as the shine on these beautiful cranberries.

[…]

Want to read more? We've got the rest, plus many, many other stories all up on the PaddedLittleParadise Ream for your steamy pleasure!

[prettylilyanime]

Blooming Hearts ♡ Chapter 01

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem reader

Synopsis: All your life, you’ve had it all—wealth, beauty, and a quirk good enough to secure your spot at UA. But after three years, you still feel more like an outsider than a future hero. Social life? Barely existent. Friends? Who needs them? You’re ready to coast through your final year solo… until fate lands you squarely in the lap of a certain hot-headed blonde—literally.

tags/warnings: 18+, smut in the later chapters, reader is spoiled, shy reader, they're all third years at UA, Fluff, strangers? to lovers trope, not really strangers, miscommunication, drama, y/n just wants to make friends, reader is canonically pretty, reader is a hero in training, whipped bakugou, she falls first but he falls harder

Prologue ♡

⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖

The first days of school are supposed to be exciting—or at least, that’s the idea you’ve gathered from TV shows and a few overly romanticized books.

But for you, ever since you first walked into your pre-k classroom in shiny Mary Janes, it’s been the same story. Year after year, right up to today, in your polished Chanel loafers, you’ve loathed it.

If anything, it’s your least favorite time of year.

Everyone is too happy. Too enthusiastic about seeing each other. People making plans left and right, hugs, laughter—none of it involves you. You’re left to sit and watch, stuck in your silent little bubble while the world keeps spinning around you.

Not that anyone���s being intentionally cruel. No, you know this is more on you—on your quiet, awkward nature that seems to freeze any potential interaction before it even has a chance to begin. So you can’t really blame them when, even as you sit dead center in the classroom, your classmates talk over and around you like you’re invisible.

You sink lower in your seat, hoping it isn’t too obvious how Kaminari is leaning across you to chat with Kirishima, who’s seated just behind you. Each laugh and cheerful exchange only makes you feel smaller.

God, you hate day one.

Class doesn’t officially start until 8:45 a.m., but your alarm—set to chime with soft jingles—woke you up at 5 a.m. sharp.

You went through your entire morning routine with the precision of someone preparing for a photoshoot: exfoliating every inch of your skin with vanilla-scented soaps imported from France, carefully styling your hair to perfection, and spending far too long at your vanity.

A layer of sparkly gloss on your lips, clump-free mascara on your lashes, pink blush dusted on your cheeks, and the lightest touch of pearl shimmer on your nose—everything had to be just right.

Even picking out your outfit took an hour, despite the fact that it’s a school uniform, and no one’s likely to look twice at what you’re wearing.

Still, it boosts your confidence, makes you feel like you’ve got some control. Your black designer loafers and knee-high black socks set you apart from your classmates, most of whom stick to the standard brown shoes provided by the school.

Your jewelry is minimal but elegant—sparkling diamond studs in your ears, a small stack of delicate rings on your fingers, and a few simple bracelets on your wrists. Beneath your uniform blouse, a dainty diamond pendant rests against your chest.

Yet, even with all that effort, you still feel small, like your presence is nothing more than background noise. You stare blankly at your desk, drowning in the chatter of the classroom around you.

“Bakugou! What’d you do this summer, man?!” Kaminari’s voice rings out, pulling your attention.

Your gaze lifts to the boy sitting at the front corner of the room, his expression as uninterested as ever. Bakugo barely spares Kaminari a glance before responding in his usual blunt tone. “I trained and worked with best jeanist, dunce face. You were there for most of it.”

Dunce face. If Bakugo ever called you something like that, you’re pretty sure you’d have an existential crisis right then and there. But Kaminari? He just laughs, brushing it off with a carefree grin, as if Bakugo’s blunt insults are part of his daily routine.

The boys keep up their banter, the sound blending into the general noise of the classroom while you sit quietly, feeling like a shadow in the background—there, but barely noticed. Just another morning, same as always. That is, until something weird happens.

“What about you, Y/N? Did you do anything fun?” Kaminari asks, suddenly turning toward you.

You blink, your brain stuttering to process his words as the chatter around you dies down. All eyes shift toward you, and you feel the heat rising to your face. Instinctively, your hands clam up, but you fight the urge to shrink away, forcing yourself to meet Kaminari’s expectant gaze.

“I, um… I traveled.” Your voice is soft, hesitant, and wow—could you sound any less enthusiastic?

You glance around nervously, your eyes flicking toward Bakugo. As expected, he looks utterly disinterested, his expression blank as if he’s already tuning you out. Figures. 

Swallowing down the tightness in your throat, you turn back to Kaminari, offering a tense smile. “Across Europe. I… brought souvenirs for everyone.”

For a moment, there’s silence.

Kaminari’s yellow eyes widen in genuine surprise, and Kirishima looks equally taken aback. You can tell they hadn’t expected you to say much—let alone reveal that you’d thought to bring back gifts for them. You’re not exactly known for being vocal, and this is probably the most they’ve ever heard you say at once.

“Oh, that’s really cool!” Kirishima beams, his usual warmth shining through as he gives you an approving nod. “You didn’t have to do that, though!”

“Yeah, that’s super nice of you!” Kaminari adds, grinning widely. Beyond his dumb antics, the electric boy really does have a sweet smile to him, and for a second, the tension in your chest eases just a little.

You shift awkwardly under their attention, unused to being in the spotlight like this with your peers. “It’s nothing, really. I can give you the gifts after class,” you mumble, waving a hand dismissively, even though your heart is pounding in your chest.

“So cool! What countries did you go to?” Kaminari asks, leaning in slightly with genuine interest.

“Well, I stayed at my grandparents’ vacation homes, so mostly Western Europe,” you explain, your manicured hands practically clawing into your skirt as you try to project calmness.

“What’s this about Western Europe I hear?! That’s so cool, Y/N!” Mina suddenly bounces into the conversation, and your heart practically drops out of your chest. How does she so easily swoop into conversations she wasn’t even part of? You know these are her friends, and she’s comfortable with them, but still—you can’t help but admire her confidence.

“She was there over the summer, and she got us gifts too!” Kaminari shares excitedly, as if you aren’t sitting right there. Your cheeks burn violently under the sudden attention.

Bakugo stays silent, leaning back in his chair with a bored expression, but you swear you catch the briefest flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes before he looks away. Maybe it’s your imagination, you tell yourself, but it doesn’t stop your mind from swirling.

Mina gasps and clasps her hands together. “Wait, you got us gifts? That’s seriously so sweet! Thank you, Y/N!” she chirps, her gratitude genuine.

You manage a tense smile, nodding politely, but before you can reply, Sero chimes in with a grin. “So you stayed at a vacation house too? Gosh, that sounds way cooler than ours. We were only there for a week.”

Your brows raise slightly. They all went on vacation together?

“Hey, we can’t complain,” Mina snorts, nudging Bakugo, who scowls in her direction. “It was on the beach, and we had Chef Bakugo at our service the entire time.”

“At your service is bold as fuck to say, Raccoon Eyes,” Bakugo scoffs, arms crossing in a way that only somehow makes him look even bigger. “If I hadn’t cooked, you all would’ve starved on cups of ramen.”

Your eyes, if they could, would sparkle at the visual. How does he even fit in his uniform?! His arms strain against the fabric of his sleeves, and the way his blazer clings to his broad shoulders almost makes you forget how much you hate first days of school.

You catch yourself staring for a second too long and quickly look away, heart pounding. Seriously, calm down. You don’t have a crush on Bakugo. You can’t have a crush on Bakugo. It’s not like he even knows you exist—aside from right now, where you’re sure he’s more focused on the conversation than you.

But still… he’s hard to ignore.

Denki, in his usual silly mood, throws himself into an exaggerated pose, dramatically praising Bakugo as though the blonde had single-handedly saved his life on that trip. “Our fearless leader Bakugo, slaving over a hot stove so we didn’t perish!”

Bakugo rolls his pretty red eyes, muttering something about “idiots” under his breath, and somehow the sight sends your heart into a chaotic rhythm again. God, I need to get ahold of myself.

Conversation flows smoothly without you really, but you still sit and smile, at least somewhat involved which is more than what you've really ever gotten- though it's interrupted by the sight of Aizawa opening the class doors.

“I want to see the progress you’ve all made over the break. You have 15 minutes to put on your costumes and meet at the training arena. Don’t waste time.”

Your brows lift slightly in surprise at the sudden announcement. A performance test, right off the bat? Instinctively, nerves creep in, but they’re soon replaced by a flicker of excitement.

You can’t wait to put on your new costume. Your mother had pulled some serious strings to have it custom-made by her design team, and you’ve been itching to see how it feels in action.

Grabbing your suitcase, you fall in line with your classmates, heading toward the locker rooms. Once inside, you quietly move to a far corner, grateful for the privacy. You flip open the suitcase, and your heart lifts as your eyes land on the carefully folded fabric inside.

The bodysuit is breathtaking—an iridescent pink material that seems to shimmer with every shift in light. Attached to the waist is a short skirt shaped like delicate flower petals, each edge subtly sparkling as though dusted with stardust. It’s both beautiful and practical, designed to move with you and enhance your quirk.

With steady hands, you slip into the form-fitting suit, the breathable fabric molding to your body perfectly.

You adjust the petal skirt, ensuring it falls just right, before sitting down on the bench to put on your boots—sleek, sturdy, and designed for agility. As you lace them up, you take a moment to glance down at your fully assembled outfit, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

It’s more than just a costume—it’s a statement of everything you’ve worked for, a tangible reminder of how far you’ve come.

Already, little girls across the country are asking for dolls that resemble you, despite the fact that you haven’t even graduated yet. Your internship at your mother’s prestigious hero firm is impressive, sure, but it's your image that truly captures the public’s attention.

After all, who could resist a hero who looks like a princess, wielding a quirk that blooms like pink flower magic in the midst of battle? It’s easy to see why your visual appeal has taken center stage—there’s something undeniably captivating about a hero who sparkles as much as she fights.

It’s surreal, considering the incredible feats of your classmates, that you're one of the ones that are being eyed most.

Todoroki, Midoriya, Bakugo—they’ve long since cemented their place among the best, their power unquestionable.

Yet, somehow, you've found yourself thrust into the spotlight, unexpectedly pushed forward as one of the frontrunners in the public eye from your graduating class.

It’s almost ironic, considering how incapable you are of even talking to your classmates. You’re not as strong as they are—not by a long shot. You don’t have their raw power or battle-hardened skills.

But in a world where appearances sometimes speak as loudly as strength, your presence has somehow captured the hearts of the country.

Again, painfully ironic.

You stand and smooth the glittering fabric of your bodysuit once more. Taking a steadying breath, you step toward the mirror. With a flick of your wrist, your quirk activates.

Delicate cherry blossom petals glow softly, the faint pink hue shimmering as they materialize from your hands and float effortlessly through the air. They slot themselves into your hair, pinning back the front pieces with the kind of precision you’ve long perfected.

So cute!!

“Oh Y/n, you look so good!” Ochako gushes, her eyes wide and sparkling as she clasps her hands together. Your cheeks flush at the attention, feeling the heat rise as if all the energy of the room is focused solely on you. The sheer amount of social interaction today has already left you feeling a little winded, but you force a smile, the best one you can muster.

“Thanks, Ochako,” you reply, gesturing to her newly upgraded bodysuit in black and pink. “You look great, too.”

In fact, everyone looks great. It’s surreal, really.

To think back to when you all first started, and now, seeing how much you've all grown—both in your abilities and in how you carry yourselves. It’s a strange feeling, being a part of it all, like you’re watching the shift from the sidelines rather than standing in the middle of it.

The sudden memory of Aizawa’s emphasis on “15 minutes” jolts you back to the present.

With a quiet shuffle, the girls make their way out into the arena where the rest of your classmates stand. You settle yourself on the outskirts of the group, perching on one of the benches, the space around you familiar and comforting. You’re content to just observe this time, no pressure to dive into conversation.

It’s easier this way, you think, as no one pays you any mind. Your eyes wander over to Bakugou, who, unsurprisingly, is at the center of the chaos.

He’s snapping at Kirishima, his fiery temper on full display—but you couldn’t care less about the words exchanged. What draws you in again is the way his costume fits him, perfectly tailored to his frame, an expression of his raw power.

God, he looks good.

Before you can let your mind wander any further, Aizawa’s voice slices through the air, snapping everyone’s attention back to him.

“Alright, guys, let’s start,” he announces, his tone calm but commanding, as usual, a checklist in hand. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.”

You focus, brow furrowing slightly as you listen to the rules. Capture the flag? Sounds easy enough, right?

The rules are simple: whoever holds the flag is considered the villain, and the team tasked with capturing it are the heroes. Straightforward.

But then, the teams are announced—randomized, of course—and before you know it, there’s a bright yellow flag strapped to your waist. And just like that, you’re the villain.

The weight of the flag feels less like an accessory and more like a target now. Great. It’s fine! You can handle it. Your quirk’s flashy and not the best for stealth, but you’ve worked with it before. No problem.

You straighten up, waiting for Aizawa to announce your opponent. You can practically feel the tension building as the seconds stretch on.

“Bakugou Katsuki. Hero.”

What?

Suddenly, it feels like the world stops spinning for a moment. You’re hyper-aware of the eyes on you and Bakugou, feeling the weight of everyone’s gaze fall between the two of you, curiosity in the air. Mostly because, well...

You and Bakugou had literally never been paired together for anything in the three years you’ve spent together at U.A.

It sounds odd, but despite being in many different classes, projects, and assignments together, it’s never happened. Not once.

And now, here you are. Your first time being paired with him. Oh god.

You can feel your heartbeat in your throat as you look over at him, unable to stop yourself. Your breath catches when you realize his red eyes are already locked on you.

His hero mask rests casually on his forehead, pushing back the messy platinum strands of his hair, only adding to his beautiful face. His expression is neutral—almost indifferent—but in your eyes, it only makes him look more dangerous.

You swallow hard, and your pulse spikes.

Bakugou Katsuki... is going to try and catch your flag?

Your hand naturally falls on the flag tied to your waist line, holding it to you, and you don't miss how his sharp eyes follow the movement.

Why, of all times, does your face suddenly feel like it’s on fire? Your heart races in your chest, and you can’t tell if it’s from fear or something else entirely. Oh god, help you. You’re in trouble

⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖

[clickety-clacker]

OHO.... @crabussy You do bring up a good point... his alternate outfit DOES include a beautiful, tempting slit up the side....

BUT. As you can clearly see, the powerpoint was referencing their CURRENT outfits that you see in-game. The alternate here with that long delightful window to his most likely gorgeous legs is not what we see in game. The top, while beautiful, does not match!

He is very clearly wearing this very outfit below, which includes a long, pleated skirt, with... well okay I'm assuming there's no slit on this one but now I'm imagining it. Krosis.

...

Ahem, anyway.

I suppose you could say, "Rhi we literally cant see whats under there. Maybe he's mixing and matching his outfits" and to THAT I would say:

Okay yeah. You have a point. I mean, theoretically he could have his whole dang business out, and we would be none the wiser. I have no fucking clue. But based on empirical evidence, I feel comfortable assuming that, in-game, he is wearing the outfit shown above. Which is [drum roll]... DECENT.

AND EVEN IF!!!!!!!!!!! He had his yummy lala ass god legs poking out of his slit skirt ... whos to say theyre not covered too? Leggings? Tall socks? He seems like a tall socks guy to me.

But even if they are UTTERLY DEVOID OF LAYERED COVERING, there's another point to consider: as you can see in the image above, Thespie is hovering.

If you're not moving your legs to walk around, they're never gonna poke out of that slit. As someone who actually owns a slitted skirt because I like feeling a lil cunty at times when I do present more femininely, theyre actually borderline disappointing with how well covered they keep you unless you really stick your leggy out/walk around. Standing there you can hardly tell its there.

And uh. Ngl if i could hover I wouldnt be moving my legs. Are you kidding. that would look fucking stupid. he can do whatever he wants tho dont tell thespius I said that

Now. With ALL of that said... even if they were BARE, even if he was STICKIN HIS NAKED ASS LEGS ALL THE WAY OUT...

...this is still a really decent look. Like. Look hes even wearing socks and shoes and a tucked in shirt and shawl which this model here isn't, and she still looks presentable. I would still stand by my rating of "could take him to meet my parents."

I mean. That's not a high bar. I......... actually whatever im about to say about my parents right here is unnecessary because I suddenly realized that no, I wouldn't take him to meet them, for his sake. Im so sorry thespius i even considered it. good lort

ahem. anyway.

Even if all of that did take away a star... you are forgetting the most important thing:

He still has a cute pen.

And that cute pen's bonus star keeps him at the top.

RATING: ★★★★★ MY BOY IS STILL DECENT!

GOOD EVENING EVERYBODY!!!!

have you ever wondered:

Gee, I wonder if I went to McDonalds in the company of A God, would they get arrested for public indecency?

or

...Are you wearing clothes????

I have good news: IVE ALSO WONDERED THOSE THINGS! Aaaand... I may or may not be able to provide answers! So I am happy to announce: the GREAT GOD GROVE PANTHEON DECENCY SCALE POWERPOINT !!!!

Warnings included on the powerpoint include: NSFW-adjacent jokes (often relating to nudity), spoilers, and moving/flashing gifs.

[jjsanguine]

Wearing gèlè while being raised in America wouldn't be too weird, but it's basically formal wear so there's a limited number of appropriate situations. Tying one can take over 30 minutes, there's pins, your ears get crushed, and the fabric can be heavy. Elaborately pleated gèlè shaped like flowers or fans are pretty much always tied by a professional stylist... or it's auto gèlè, in which case it was sewn by a professional stylist.

The word gèlè does just mean headscarf/head wrap, so basically any headscarf that doesn't have hanging pieces or wrap around the neck like most hijab styles counts. When people mention wearing them every day they're talking about like stuff like this:

And not like this:

Those pleats require specific types of fabric. As I mentioned earlier, for your stereotypical fancy gèlè it would be weird to wear one while wearing Western clothing. So here's a crash course on trad clothing a Yoruba diasporan woman might wear, if you want your OC to wear a fancy gèlè at some point.

Getting a full outfit sewn would cost a lot of money (since there's nowhere that sells trad off the rack) either from finding a US based tailor or having your measurements and fabric sent to a tailor in Nigeria and shipped back.

I mentioned trad and not just ìró and bùbá (women's clothing) because there's been a recent tend for women to wear what was historically men's clothing. Whatever your OC's going for, a good rule of thumb is more contrast + coverage = more formal. So embroidery, beads, contrasting fabric linings, longer sleeves, all that means more formal.

This agbádá (men's clothing) is like, the most minimal you can get before a fancy pleated gèlè would be weird, and even still an American would have to be at a wedding before wearing something like this. This outfit could be made smart casual by removing the agbádá (outer robe) entirely, or by wearing a dàńṣíkí instead of the bùbá (tunic) and agbádá. Note that the dàńṣíkí would also have to be similarly restrained in terms of colour and detail.

Smart casual ìró and bùbá is something like this:

For the silhouette the blouse needs to have loose sleeves or at least sleeves that flare out. The skirt needs to be form fitting above the knees because originally it was just a rectangle of fabric wrapped around you. Now they might include petticoats (but not voluminous ones) an inner liner or be a dress with a built in corset, but the silhouette remains the same.

A skirt like the left fits the vibe but the right is too voluminous. Sewn skirts may have a slit in the back for ease of movement, but the traditional wrapped style just has a technique to tying it so you don't have to hobble around (as much).

Formal ìró and bùbá is like this. Note how the ìró reaches almost to the ground, the long sleeves and the shawl. The one in the left is more traditional because they used aṣọ òfì for the ìró, iborùn (shawl), and gèlè. The right is more modern because it's lace fabric with an inner liner + the ìró is made from the same fabric as the bùbá, instead of a fabric complimenting it or matching the gèlè + iborùn as on the left.

Something like this is also formal but like very modern, very trendy because of how formfitting the bùbá is, and also how it's off the shoulder. You should definitely go on Instagram or the like because I'm not that up to date on the trends.

Hi! I love your blog, thank you so much for all the work you do.

I'm designing a Black character, specifically from a Nigerian Yoruba family (though she was born and raised in America). I'd like to include a gele headwrap in her design. She wears mostly business casual, and I've seen perspectives saying gele is usually for things like weddings, and others saying it can be worn everyday. I'm also unsure on if it'd be frowned upon for a Black American to wear gele, even if she is from a Yoruba family. I understand this is probably not your area of expertise, so I apologize in advance. Thank you again for creating this blog, it is a godsend.

Well first, if she is Yoruban, then nobody can frown upon her wearing anything from her culture because it is her culture! While we're both Black, there is a difference between identifying as Black American as a cultural identity, and being Black and knowing your roots (I have friends that are Ivorienne and Togolian, they can identify as such while living here).

As for whether or not it can be worn, no unfortunately I am not one who can speak on that. I'm pretty sure I have some Nigerian followers though, so maybe they can speak on it!