#Fits Over Most Standard Toi

[nonasuch]

Miss Universe National Costume 2024, Part 2!

Splitting this off into a new post so I'm not clogging up everyone's dash quite as much.

Miss Malta is some sort of environmental protection Sailor Scout. I think the giant bow would look better on the back of the skirt but otherwise this is solid.

It has just come to my attention that I skipped over Miss Albania and several other A/B countries, back at the beginning. I sincerely apologize! She went to all this trouble putting together a Fifth Element cruise ship passenger costume, and I nearly missed it.

Miss Armenia, in what even I have to admit would be a legit Princess Leia fit.

Miss Bahrain, adding some green to her Gold And Vaguely Historical look, along with what is either a comically large prop chalice or an upside-down lamp.

Miss Bangladesh appears to believe that adding two plush tigers from the toy store around the corner from the pageant venue will conceal the fact that she is just wearing a tiger-print evening dress. Miss Bangladesh is incorrect.

Miss Belgium. Girl. No.

Miss Belize let the seventh-grade art class do her whole costume, which was a bold choice.

Okay, I think that's everyone I missed! Back to alphabetical order. And I should have to rely less on shitty screenshots, now. Some countries were benefiting from the low resolution, tbh.

Kind of feel like Miss Maldives had a luggage mishap and she's just wearing the outfit she packed for a slightly dressy dinner.

Miss Martinique's costume would honestly have looked better in the shitty screencap version. The construction is... bad. It's bad.

Feel like we're in a little bit of slump here. Miss Mauritius did not stick enough butterfly appliqués to her gown to conceal that it is, in fact, just a regular evening gown.

Slump officially over! We are so back. Everyone say thank you, Miss Mexico.

I would like this better if it had just committed to the giant skirt and not felt the need to make it a Sexy Miniskirt look. Sorry, Miss Moldova.

Miss Mongolia wanted to stand out from all the other gold armor on stage, so she decided to a) wear cooler armor and b) bring a bow and arrow instead of a sword. Great work, Miss Mongolia.

Starting to feel like I'm picking on the smaller countries that probably don't have a huge pageant culture or the budget for really elaborate costumes, but on the other hand Miss Montenegro's costume is super low-effort AND the fabrics look cheap, so what am I supposed to do?

Okay, this looks like a pretty standard Miss Universe Sexy Bird, yes? Well, THIS is how Miss Myanmar entered the stage:

She had to fight her way out of that thing! God only knows what the visibility was like in there.

I think the hat is doing most of the heavy lifting to keep Miss Namibia's costume from being Just An Evening Dress, sadly.

Oh, yikes. It's more obvious in motion but Miss Nepal's bodice looks like it's made of craft foam and it fits real weird. The rest of it looks a little like she got together with Miss Cyprus and a pile of tablecloths for a sewing bee last night, I'm sorry to say.

Miss Netherlands has chosen a Tribute to Delft. I think if I were in charge of this costume I would do a much fuller skirt that falls from the waist, instead of the weird trumpet-skirt-with-hoop we've got here. And, obviously, I would make the windmill on the bodice actually spin.

It looks like she's having some issues keeping the wings and peplum in place, but I really like Miss New Zealand's costume from a design perspective. It at least slightly resembles the bird it's supposed to be (New Zealand fantail) and I think the feather pattern is meant to be in a Maori art style.

Miss Nicaragua is a Sexy Cathedral, which I think might be a Miss Universe first and is definitely a big old step closer to drag.

Okay, pausing here to get the next batch ready.

[mylittleredgirl]

i know some of you have been pressing your faces to the glass waiting for me to see this one in particular SO i saw "the nurses" the other night and am still thinking about it!!

i love love love it when characters get pushed to a point where you can almost see their childhood selves pop out, like are they even talking about what's happening right now? or are their 12-year-old hearts just screaming?? i love that margaret's outburst is both irrational (the hostile work environment is coming from inside the house; i was yelling at my tv "baby it's your fault!!!") and so so honest.

[this turned into a bit of a character thesis, so not only is there a readmore, there will also be a reblog soon with the rest of the post because i maxed out the image limit] [edit: part ii now in the reblogs!]

this whole time, margaret has treated her subordinates with a heavy hand because she thinks it's the right and fair thing to do. the rules say this is how it works!

she maintains a high standard of excellence in brutal circumstances, but she's also reactive, moody, and unforgiving. she's often shown on the edge of losing control and authority, she inflames situations by overreacting, and the thing she punishes most egregiously is disrespect (toward frank, toward the army, toward herself). she intentionally underlines the distance between herself and the other nurses at every turn.

from season 3 "there's nothing like a nurse": [all IDs in alt]

really, everything she thinks and does comes from a place of "they're not supposed to like me," but the childish part of her that is completely unable to see her own behavior is confused and hurt because "i'm just doing my job so why don’t they like me???"

it's her job to maintain discipline, but especially here in 4077-land, she doesn't have to lead with the whip. henry was beloved because he was an overly permissive clown, which will never be her speed, but colonel potter has all the same training as she does. he's loved and respected as the Good Regular Army Guy because he leads with discernment and mutual respect.

it's easier for him. he's more experienced, he's respected and supported from above and below, and he has a calm temperament — which isn't nothing.

from season 4 "the interview":

whether she's aware of this as a problem or not, we at home can see how margaret's inability to control her emotional reactivity causes her as much grief as her inability to control other people.

if she were capable of laughing off small slights, hawkeye and trapper wouldn't have used her as a chew toy so much, and henry might have taken her real concerns more seriously if they weren't lost in the noise of daily fits, you know? she rarely started it, so i'm not blaming her for the hostile chaos circus of seasons 1-3, but i am saying she would have had a better time if she knew how to take a few deep breaths.

this description from the script, after the near-brawl in the nurses' tent in act one, is basically her character thesis statement:

and here, when she's reacting fully emotionally, the truth comes out! the reason that she won't be flexible and show compassion to the nurses isn't because of the rules, but because they're mean to her!!

that's obviously a very bad place to lead from. she has enormous institutional power over them, including controlling their freedom of movement, but she feels like all the other girls in school are hanging out together and they hate her. because they are! and they do! the fight in act one boils over when they make fun of her hair, and that sent all of them back to middle school.

and in many ways, that's where margaret's emotional maturity is stuck (which is, i think, why i find her so endearing). she can't see herself. she knows they don't like her, trust her, or want her around, but she doesn't understand how she dug this hole herself, or how to get out of it.

to add insult to jealous injury, one of the nurses (mary jo, who gets between margaret and baker to stop the fight and takes care of the others in different ways) is margaret's age, and the others look to her as their chosen leader and personal support.

and i'm sure margaret had NO IDEA this was the messy truth until she heard it come out of her mouth.

and her emotionally breaking on the "one lousy cup of coffee" in particular…

i wonder, how often does some version of that first tent scene happen? does she deliver their assignments every night? she walks in already defensive, they immediately stop laughing, and then... she either finds a reason to scold them or they ice her out until she leaves. (and they probably start laughing again as soon as she does!)

from her perspective, when she arrived for the dreaded sleepover and they turned out the lights the minute she walked in, it's like they cancelled the nightly coffee klatch just to avoid spending one social minute with her.

i also think the nurses are right when they assumed that she wouldn't have accepted an invitation to hang out with them (and might even have snapped at them for being inappropriate for asking). she doesn't cross that emotional line, even when she should — she didn't know gaynor was spiraling after losing so many patients in a row, and didn't respond compassionately when she learned.

has she ever invited them for coffee or a friendly chat? no.

...... but her circumstances have recently changed.

[reblog with the rest of it is here!]

[strawwiibernyy]

Bitter Love - Park S.

__________________

[Bully!Sunghoon x Reader]

warnings! yandare!sunghoon, mental-physical abuse, fat-shaming, cursing, suggestive, smoking, bullying, obsessive behaviour, mentions of another idol (yeonjun), in general VERY DARK CONTENT.

words: 6k

╰┈➤ Going into high school, you kept yourself hidden, and you concentrated on your studies instead. However, you made yourself the target of the high school's most handsome boy, Park Sunghoon. His angelic appearance didn't match with his demon nature. Once he wants something, he will get it no matter what.

♪ Danger by BTS ♪

__________________

"What's up, hippo?" Small coughs left your mouth as you choked on your rice. Not again. You took ten seconds to calm down yourself before turning your head at the boy next to you. Park Sunghoon. You knew it was him by the second you heard the nickname. 

'Hippo.'

He called you like this because, according to him, you were fat. Well, not only to him if you wanted to be honest, but you didn't weight that much to be called fat. You had a normal body. 

Korean standards were harsh, especially when it came to women. Your body didn't fit. Most of the girls' bodies in your high school didn't fit. And you didn't understand why Sunghoon seemed to bully only you about it. You were his favorite toy.

"What's this?" He said, taking your chocolate cupcake from your lunch box. His eyes shined as he spun around his fingers the sweet, eager to taste it.

"Wait, my mom made it for me. Give it back!" You shouted, standing up to meet his height. However, the height difference between you two was ridiculously big. Your eyes travelled down to the floor and then back at his face. He had plastered on his usual smug smirk. Every time he embarrassed you, he would be the happiest in the world. Plus ten points if he made you tear up.

"Nah, I think I will keep it. I like cupcakes." And with that, he took a big bite from your food. The sweet that your mother baked for you and was so excited for you to taste it. You didn't want to cry in front of him. You knew he did these on purpose and enjoyed seeing you like this. Nevertheless, you weren't able to stop the tears in your eyes.

"No, don't cry!" He said between giggles once he noticed your glittery eyes. His friends behind him were already dying from laughter as they saw the first tear fall on the floor. "I am doing it for you! You eat a lot, Y/N. And if you get any fatter, none will want you."

Sunghoon licked his lips before he took another bite from the cupcake. And another one. And the cupcake was now long gone. Not knowing what to do, you chose to sit down quietly and wait till he leaves.

"Eh?" Sunghoon's eyes got wide as he looked down at your figure. Not wide from shock, but wide from anger.

"What? The fun is already over?" One of his friends, hearing in the name Jake, spoke. "Nah Sunghoon, let's go." Another one of them said, grabbing Sunghoon's shoulder. However, the black-haired boy pushed Jay's hand away.

"So you give up so easily?" Sunghoon spoke again. He was trying to play it cool, yet you noticed how his forced smirk trembled. "Stand the fuck up and go throw your trash." The cute, heart-shaped wrap from the cupcake landed on your head and then fell down on the floor. You made direct eye-contact with it, yet you didn't make any move to pick it up.

Sunghoon had started to get worried. Since he started bullying you in the first grade of high school, you always reacted. You either yelled at him, or hit him back, or his favourite; you would cry. But in your last year, you didn't even spare at him a glance.

"I am talking to y-"

"Stop!" Your only friend stood up, making her way towards Sunghoon. He had grabbed your shoulder, pushing your body from right to left. With your best friend's burst, he ripped his hand off of you.

"What?" The cafeteria was now silent. All eyes were on them. A furious Sunghoon and an even more furious Arisu. You had pleased her to not stand up against him since all the school would hate her as well. When you are being bullied by the most handsome boy in school who is also a famous model, it is normal for other girls to do not want to interrupt. None dared to disagree with him.

He had the money. He had the face. He had the fame.

He had everything.

"What is your problem with her, dude? Go find someone else to bother if you are so bored with your life!" Your head turned at Arisu, your eyes even more teary. She was a very skinny and cute girl, fitting very well the beauty standards compared to the rest of the girls in school. You were always curious why a girl as beautiful as her would want to hang out with you. And now, she was standing tall against Park Sunghoon, for your sake.

"What? Why are you the one not talking now? Talk!" While Arisu continued, you were becoming even more frightened for her. You didn't want her to experience what you have experienced in all your high school life. Not because of you.

Sunghoon looked at you, then at Arisu, then back at you. 

"Meet me after school at the roof. Don't you dare not show up." You felt his hot breath hitting your ear as he whispered those words to you, making you shiver. His hand pressing one last time onto your back before walking away. Each one of his friends following behind him like puppies. You glanced back up at Arisu who seemed even more angry from Sunghoon's ignorance.

"Hey! Hey!"

"Arisu, it's okay." You gripped her hand, not letting her move any further. Her dark brown eyes focused on your own ones, her breathing slowing down. "Thank you so much, but you didn't have to." Crystal hot tears rolled down your cheek while your overwhelming emotions got to you.

"What did he say to you?" She asked, and your body froze. Should I tell her?  "What did he say?!" She continued, and you left a deep sigh.

"He said that I should be careful. Nothing that matters. You know, one of his usual threats." Your friend nodded and sat back down to continue her meal. You weren't, though. Sunghoon's eyes were piercing your back, probably waiting to see again your crying face. You had a long time to cry.

"I am going to the bathroom for a moment and I am coming back. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry."

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

The bell rung and the students begun to run out of their classes. Loud voices filled the once empty halls, happy that this Friday finally came to an end. However, you weren't. You didn't want the last period to never end. Because now, you had to face Park Sunghoon. Alone.

You didn't tell Arisu about the meetup. Not only because she would get crazy angry and end up arguing with Sunghoon, but also because she had a date. 

Riki Nishimura from Park Sunghoon's friend group seemed to like Arisu. She was one of the few Japanese girls that the school had welcomed and Riki was quick to take an interest in her. He wasn't as bad as the rest of his friends. The opposite. He and Sunoo seemed to be two kind young men who ended up in a bad situation. That's why they hanged out mostly with each other and other people.

You were sure Arisu liked him back, even though she wouldn't admit it even to herself. The fact that he is in Park Sunghoon's friend group annoys her. Although you had ensured her that this relationship would be okay with you, she still had doubts about Riki.

"He said we should go to a new cat cafe that opened last week." Arisu told you while fixing her make-up. Her pink lip-gloss sliding across her bottom lip in such an elegant way. How badly you wished you could be as beautiful and brave as her.

"Cat cafe? I am sure you will have a great time! Don't forget to send me photos of the cats." You gave her a warm smile and in return she gave you a thump's up.

"Alright! See you on Monday!"

"See you!" The forced smile on your lips stayed firm until she was out of your view. Your waving hand dropped, and you started walking to the stairs railing. Taking the first step, you stopped your trucks.

What if I don't go? What will he do? Or what if I call a teacher? They will be able to help.

No, they won't. The principal is friends with Sunghoon's father and he goes to their house for dinner every Sunday. The only person who could support you now was yourself.

Clenching your fists, you started climbing up the stairs with strong steps. I am sure about myself. I can fight him!

And all of those motivating words faded from your mind once the cold air hit you.

You knew how this would go. A chat where you and Park Sunghoon were alone. It has happened again. Not a lot of times, but those a few times were memorable. You didn't know why, but he had this longing to touch you.

Every time he found you alone at your locker, he would throw down your stuff. Only for him to peek under your skirt when you would bend down to get them. When he did that, he would move his hips closer, feeling the thin air between your body and his.

When he would sit next to you in class, his hand would travel to your things as he gripped hard on them. He called this 'the quiet game'. The rules were that you had to be silent while his hands explored your body. His fingers felt like fire to your skin, even if you "hated" him.

He was forcing himself on you every time. And that's what exactly he did now.

"Sunghoon!" A sob escaped your mouth when you felt your back hitting the wall. His hands gripping your wrists, which were pinned at the sides of your face. You could already feel the bruises forming as he digged his nails deeper into the skin. He licked his lips, eyeing you up and down before stopping at your face.

"What's that show your friend gave?" He asked, laughing, and his left hand went to your waist.

"Stop!" You cried out while his hand started rubbing your side. Your free hand tried to push him away, but it was too weak. He quickly took it instead, placing it above your head along with the other one, letting his other hand roam around your figure.

The worst part was that you didn't actually want him to stop.

"You think you and your friend can yell at me like that? I have said to you, Y/N, multiple times. Don't you dare disobey me." From the waist, his hand rested on your left thing. Your cheeks heated up, feeling his long fingers brushing your inner thing. You tried to close the gap between your legs, but he put his hand between them. Now you were in an even worst position.

"Please Sunghoon, stop! I won't ever try to stand up to you ever again!" Sunghoon's smile got wider when he saw those tears he craved so much run down your face like a river. You were crying so much that you had wet yours and his shirt as well. You didn't want him to see you like this, but you were unable to stop yourself.

He wanted more. He needed to see more. 

He ached for your attention.

"Beg me some more and I might let you go." He let out a breathy laugh and pinched your thing. A small sound left from your lips mixed with surprise and pleasure. Wait, pleasure?

"Ahh, Sunghoon! Sunghoon, please, I will obey you! I will do whatever you want. Ah!" He seemed to love that side of you. His messed up mind enjoyed seeing you begging for his mercy. You sure repaid him for his earlier disappointment. The sounds coming out of your lips enough to drive him crazy.

Even if he bullied you, he always made sure to keep his control. However, now he had lost all of it. His hand left your things and took a hold of your left cheek. Your eyes narrowed, seeing his eyes slowly closing and his head titling to the side.

Oh, no! Your eyes got wide and more tears slipped down. No, no, no, no. You couldn't give him your first kiss!

With all the strength you had left, you turned your head to the opposite side. Anywhere away from his lips. Although your hard tries, his grip was stronger. He forced his lips on your plump ones, not giving you anytime to adjust before he forced his tongue in as well.

Tears and tears and more tears. You were sure you had wasted all of them. His free hand left your cheek and took a hold of your hip, bringing you closer to him. His head was pushing front so you wouldn't be able to turn your head as he explored your mouth with his tongue. You squirmed when he bit your lips, hard enough to draw blood.

"What is happening here?!" A stern female voice was heard and Sunghoon pulled away. The short teacher in front of you seemed furious until the student that was currently making out with a girl ended up being Park Sunghoon.

"Ah, Sunghoon, was that you? I am sorry I didn't know. How is your mother doing? Your father? I am sorry that I annoy you guys, but you have to go. The principal is already on his way to leave."

"Oh, alright. Y/N, we are going!" Sunghoon shouted for you, placing his hands in his pockets and casually passing the female teacher. That's when she got a clear view of your face. Stained tears and red eyes. Your lip was bloody and your gaze showing how frightened you were. 

"I am sorry, is your girlfriend alright?"

"I am not his-"

"She's alright. She only had a minor accident and twisted her ankle. I will take care of it-"

"No." The teacher got in between you two once she saw Sunghoon's hand ready to grab yours. Sunghoon's gaze darkened as he looked at his teacher, his patience running out. "I am sorry, Sunghoon, but I am afraid that I can't let her go like this. She must go to the nurse's office."

Sunghoon's eyes softened, turning into his usual bored ones. He gathered his hand, looking at you and then the teacher. God, thank you.

"Ah, okay, I am going then. Bye hippo." He gave you a wink and began to walk down the stairs. You and the teacher waited a little till he left. And that's the moment you exploded. Breaking down to tears, crying on the hard floor. But the kind teacher helped you stand up and walked you to the nurse's office.

You just had my first kiss. And your first kiss was stolen by your biggest enemy. 

Park Sunghoon.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

"I am sorry." The teacher spoke while messaging your ankle. You were currently at the nurse's office, expect the nurse had already left. So the teacher ended up taking of your 'twisted ankle'.

"What. Why?" You shattered, eyes wide at her words. Her hands stopped working on your ankle, standing up from the chair. You were sitting on the bed, furrowing at her.

"I know what really happened back there. I mean with Sunghoon. I didn't buy that lie about your ankle." You froze, lowering down your head in shame.

"I am sorry-"

"Don't." She cut you off. She was more embarrassed than you. Her gaze didn't dare to go at you. "I am sorry because I can't help. Going against Park Sunghoon is like setting myself up to lose my job."

You wouldn't talk. You left her to speak instead, even though you had already forgiven her. Not all people have the ease of abandoning their jobs and find a new one.

She may have a husband, a family, and a lot of kids. You understand her. You really do. But who will save you from Park Sunghoon?

"I will try to keep you away from him." She continued, finally looking at you. "But I don't promise you anything." You nodded, thankful for her words. At least you will escape the worst he can do to you.

Then she revealed to you everything she knows. The deepest secrets she knows about Park Sunghoon, and what shaped his personality. His back story, and his family's true nature.

"Sunghoon was always a handsome boy. Since a young age, everyone would get shocked when they saw the beautiful boy. And his parents are known clout chasers."

"What do you mean?" You interrupted her, adjusting your seat to the bed. The woman sat again across from you, a sigh leaving her lips.

"I mean that they do everything for money and fame. So when Sunghoon was born, they wasted no time to take advantage of his handsome face."

Imagining Sunghoon young felt weird. A kind and innocent boy which played with his sister. Now that innocent boy was long gone. It's like something erased his childhood. If he even had lived them.

"He went through abuse, mental and physical. His whole life, he was in front of a camera. He never met motherly affection."

This information made you feel actually bad about him. All those pranks he has pulled on you. All this bullying that you have suffered. You couldn't help but ask her the question that's been bothering you all these years.

"W-why me?" The teacher couldn't hear your weak voice, some sobs escaping along with it. "Why he chose me to bully? I am no different that any girl here."

The woman sighed at the question, a small smile going on her lips. "I don't know. But if he chose you, then it means you won't escape that easily."

Your breath got stuck in your neck, looking into her brown eyes. There was no hope for you behind them. Not even trying to sound hopeful.

"Park Sunghoon doesn't stop till he gets what he wants."

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

"He is so kind, nothing like his friends!" Arisu said, closing her locker. After what happened with Sunghoon yesterday, you didn't dare to tell anything to your friend.

Not only because she would get mad at you for not supporting yourself, but also it could destroy her beautiful bond with Riki. She liked the boy very much, even if she won't admit it. Telling her what happened will have a bad influence on the couple too.

As you were talking with Arisu about her perfect date, Sunghoon's friend group walked by. They always walked by your lockers, even if theirs were further away from yours. It was Sunghoon's order. This strong urge he has to see you.

Your eyes flickered towards Sunghoon. He walked around with his hands in his pockets. The rest behind him were laughing about something, while Sunghoon's face stayed the same cold one.

Cold till he saw you. A smirk went up to his lips, coming closer to you. Arisu on the other hand looked towards Riki. You tried to avoid Sunghoon's piercing gaze. Yet before you could turn around, he winked towards your way.

"What was that?" Arisu asked, noticing the wink too. Your cheeks had taken a deep shade of red. You shrugged your shoulders, and with trembling hands, you closed your locker.

The bell rung and you went to your class. Sunghoon's action this time didn't anger your friend. It made you relax, letting a sigh escape your lips. Entering the class, you saw the last thing you wanted to see.

Sunghoon sitting next to your seat.

Your actual seatmate has talked to you a lot of times about Sunghoon. She complained about him threating her to give up her seat. At least she doesn't get in trouble since the teachers obey Sunghoon.

"I am sorry." You whispered to your actual seatmate as you walked towards Sunghoon. Her eyes were teary and you don't even want to imagine what could he have said to her.

That boy is pure devil.

"Hippo, I was waiting for you." Sunghoon smirked, throwing his hand around your shoulder once you had sat. His fingers traced your hair while you were doing the best to ignore him. That's what he wanted. Attention from you.

"Why won't you talk, huh?" His fingers got rougher while caressing your hair. You continued to take out your books like nothing happened, gulping loudly. "Talk." He pulled a strad of your hair.

Before he could do anything else, the teacher stepped in. Sunghoon took his hand away from you, and your shoulders relaxed again. Your eyes got big to see the teacher from yesterday at the nurse's office enter.

She is your only hope.

"Good morning, kids." She began with a huge smile on her lips. However, that smile dropped when she noticed Sunghoon next to you. He had spread his long legs as wide as he could to annoy you.

"Stop it." You whispered when you felt his palm sitting on your thing. The teacher had turned to the board, and he had found his change. Not that he was afraid to do it in front of her.

"So now you talk?" Sunghoon whispered back, caressing your thing and pinching it. Your body felt very warm. It irritated that he could get a reaction out of your body like that. Your handsome bully gripping your thing, and you enjoyed it.

Your breath got stuck in your neck when his hand went further up. Too up for your comfort. You shifted in your seat, yet Sunghoon's hand held your leg down. He smirked when he noticed your red cheeks.

"Oh, you like it hippo. Who else would touch such a fattie like you?" It was dangerous. His hand wouldn't leave, it would only cover a bigger space in your thing. And his hand was reaching for something that was not your thing.

You closed your eyes shut, sounds threating to escape your lips. No, no, no, no. You didn't want to enjoy this. You hated yourself for liking his touch, his face, his attitude. His finger played with the waistband of your panties. And before he could make any more moves.

"Y/N Y/L please change seats with Park Jay." Sunghoon's hand flew back to its place. His frown was big as he watched you standing up. He got so mad that he didn't keep his mouth shut.

"Why should she?" He shouted, putting his hands back on the desk. You had already gone two rows at the front. Now he couldn't annoy you anymore. But he was still trying to get you back.

"Because I know Y/L has a slight problem with her eyesight. So it's good if she changed to the seats at the front." With the teacher's explanation, the boy couldn't say anything else.

You looked at the teacher with a smile. She looked back at you. Her expression stayed firm in order to not give anything away. You nodded, thanking her in silence. To that, she reacted with a small smile and turned back to the lesson.

Sunghoon hadn't understood anything. You were sure about it. At least you hoped he hadn't, because the teacher was only trying to help you.

However, he was smart enough to notice it. Notice your reaction when the specific teacher stepped in and noticed the teacher keeping a close eye on you.

He had understood. And he wasn't going to let it pass by.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

It was the weekend. You were finally getting a break from Sunghoon's harsh behaviours. But to be honest, on those days you cried uncontrollably. The thoughts of Sunghoon's next actions brought you an enormous fear.

Your parents had left the house to go for dinner. You hadn't told them anything about Sunghoon, and you wouldn't anytime soon. Now they enjoyed their dinner, while you sat alone in your bedroom.

Suddenly, your doll bell rung. Assuming that your parents might have come back, you opened the door. And you whished your actions could be erased and never opened it.

"Hey." Sunghoon said, a smirk plastered on his face. You froze at the sight of the boy. He has ruined your life. He makes you live with a constant fear. And now he has the nerve to show up to your house?

"W-what are you-" You were trying to speak, ask for an explanation. You felt your previous tears coming back, yet you didn't want to cry in front of him.

"Crying already?" His eyes light up when the first tear came out. He was sick in his mind. "Come on hippo, I am taking you out." He said, grabbing your wrist and pulling you out of the house. His rough fingers imprinted on your skin while you were trying to break free.

"S-Sunghoon, please-" You choked out in cries. By now your eyes had gotten red, barely seeing between the tears. He had pulled you out of your house, his harsh pull making you fall in the front. A scream left your mouth, eyes pinned on your bloody knees.

"Oh, you are so cute like this." He smirked, closing the door behind him. Your head hanged low, not daring to make eye contact with him. You prayed for someone to stop by, for anyone.

And fortunately, your prayers were heard. As Sunghoon was preparing to force you up again, a loud voice cut him off.

"Leave the girl alone!" In seconds, Sunghoon's hand got dogged by another one. The stranger's hand was pale, not surpassing Sunghoon's, but still. Your eyes went up to your head, trying to take a glance at the random stranger.

The only thing you were able to make out through your tears were his black clothes. He also seemed pretty tall, the boy towering over you. Sunghoon's smug expression turned into a deep frown. He was furious in a way you had never seen.

"Mind your own fucking business! She is my girlfriend!"

"And you think that excuses your violent behaviour." The boy talked back, stepping closer to Sunghoon. Face to face, eyes burning with anger from both sides.

This was your change.

You placed your hands on the hard ground, forcing yourself to stand up. Sunghoon's eyes twitched, watching you escape. Leaving the boy behind, he tried to run in your direction. However, the kind boy got in front of him.

"Leave, quickly!" The boy said, holding back Sunghoon like a bull seeing red. That was the moment you took a clear sight of his face. And he was handsome. More handsome more than any boy you had seen.

Expect Sunghoon.

Sharp cat eyes along with plump lips, and high cheekbones. The black clothes he wore made him appear even prettier. You were lucky he found the way till here. Not only lucky, blessed.

You found a place to rest behind some bushes, hiding yourself in case Sunghoon starts looking for you. After a while, the boy who saved you spotted you behind the bushes.

"Oh, here you are! I was looking for you." He said, kneeling in front of your curled frame. You noticed his bloody lip and dark eye. Of course Sunghoon wouldn't leave without a fight. Noticing where your eyes were, he covered his bloody lip. An awkward giggle left his mouth, and the sound drove you to the skies.

"I am so sorry." You whispered, not daring to raise your eyes at him. The boy frowned before moving closer to you. He couldn't understand your apology.

"Why are you apologizing? It's not your fault that he is like that. A lot of boyfriends end up having violent behaviours, but you should know-"

"That dick is not my boyfriend!" You shouted, breaking down into your arms. It was embarrassing. Your parents can come back at any minute, while you were crying in front of a stranger in your pajamas and behind a bush.

Silence fell. The only sound was your muffled cries. The boy stood frozen, not knowing what to do. Suddenly, you felt a gentle touch caressing your head. It was so soft and innocent, a touch you had never received before.

Slowly, you revealed your face to him. Seeing how his expression instantly changed at the sight of your face made you want to cry even more. You could notice the pity behind his eyes. But also the curiosity.

"Wherever you want help." He began talking, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. "Call me. Since you don't have your phone with you, give me your number. I will call you later so you can save my number as well."

Your trembling fingers tapped on the screen, writing your number and then your name. "Y/N Y/L." The boy read, testing your name on his tongue. You never loved your name as much as you did now.

"Oh, I forgot! My name is Choi Yeonjun. Nice to meet you." He stretched out his hand for a handshake and you giggled. You couldn't help it but watching how gentle he was being with you made you happy. He was cute, dispite his dark appearance.

Like Sunghoon. He is a true demon, despite his angelic appearance.

"Wait, I hope you didn't tell your name to Sunghoon."

"To the boy from before? No, I didn't. Why would I? Wait, you said his name was Sunghoon? Park Sunghoon?" His name was known, yet for different reasons. For example, as the most handsome teenage model, and the son of the owner of a very rich company. He was an idol to a lot.

"I knew something was wrong with him! His eyes always looked dead." Yeonjun said, frowning at himself. Sunghoon's dark brown eyes truly held nothing other than hate and egoism.

His past was rough, but it had shaped him even rougher.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

You and Yeonjun have begun meeting up pretty often. You and him always excused those hangs out as purely out of worry, but you knew something else had grown between the two of you.

Your mind was filled with his smile as you walked towards your class. Clenching the books in your hands, a smile went up by itself in your mouth.

Till the usual boy pulled it off of you.

"Sunghoon-"

"Y/N, are you playing with me?" Your eyes got wide at his words. Playing with him? It made your blood boil with anger. His words, his voice, his face, the mention of his name.

Everything related to Park Sunghoon was a nightmare and a dream at the same time.

"What are you saying-"

"I saw you hanging out with that guy yesterday. Seems like I didn't beat him hard enough." He cut you off, his deep voice ringing in your ears. You shivered when you felt his touch again on your collarbone.

He started from the top like usual. Touching every single place, even the ones you didn't like to be touched at. Then he continued with the lower body, his fingers always being one step away from the forbidden contact.

Yet now you wanted to fight back. All those late night talks with Yeonjun didn't happen for you to just continue to bear it. His motivating words to fight back. His usual sentence "You have more power over him than he has on you."

Why? You didn't know, neither cared. But you were going to use his obsession against him.

You have more power over him. You have more power over him. You have more power over him!

"Sunghoon, I don't love you!" You yelled as loud as you could, pushing his chest back. It was the first time your hands worked in your favor, because the boy fell back on the desks. "I don't love you!" You yelled again, loud, so it could finally go through his ears.

And it seemed to work, because you left him frozen down on the floor. His eyes were wide and his mouth hanged open. You hated him. And you were finally going to show him that.

"Leave me alone and never bother me again. Because I don't love you back!"

Sunghoon, the boy who loved you like none else. But also the boy's love which was toxic like none else. You didn't care about his past. You didn't want to fix him. Because you couldn't bear the emotion he called 'love'.

You ran away, pushing through the thousand hallways. This time he wasn't chasing you, and it was freighting. Because you know Sunghoon wouldn't leave a behaviour like that unpunished.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

The next day at school, Arisu noticed your perplexed face. "What happened?" She asked, leaning against your locker. Her eyes went on your phone, unread messages on the screen.

"Do you remember the boy I was talking to you about?"

"Yes. The one you accidentally bumped into on your way home?" You nodded, hiding the truth of how you and Yeonjun met up. Arisu and Riki had now developed a beautiful relationship, and you didn't want to mess it up. Not again because of this stupid boy, Sunghoon.

"Well, it's been two days and he still hasn't seen my messages. I even went to the places he usually hangs out with his friends, but when I asked them about him, they replied that they haven't heard from him as well."

"That's weird." Arisu said, and you put your phone back inside your locker. Something was bothering you. Since you stopped talking with him, your chest felt heavy every day. Something inside you told you that this has something to do with Sunghoon.

The bell rang, and Arisu left to go to her class. You goodbyed your best friend with a hug before walking off to your own one. First period was Literature, the only class you shared with Sunghoon. Fortunately, that kind teacher who saved you that day at the roof was the teacher.

At least now, with her help, you don't have to bear his pinches at your things. You sit far away from him because of you don't see well. Such a good excuse that you never thought of. Entering the class, the teacher hadn't come yet.

"Um, I am sorry. This is my seat." You spoke to the male student currently accompanying the front seat. He gulped down and turned to look at you. He was trembling from head to toe, and his voice was thin when he spoke.

"N-no."

"But the teacher changed us-"

"Y/N." This voice was the only thing you needed to understand who was hiding behind this. Sunghoon threatened that poor boy. However, he can't scare you anymore. "This is his seat now." He continued, smirking at himself.

"No, this is my seat. You don't arrange the seats. Wait till the teacher comes." You didn't even turn around to look at him as you talked. If you did, you would be met with his huge smirk and sneaky gazes at his friends.

You waited and waited, yet the teacher never came but someone else. The principal?

"Good morning, kids. For personal reasons, our old literature teacher had to leave, but Ms. Kim has come to take her place. Please bow to your new teacher."

'What?'

Your head was spinning and your face had gotten pale at the sight of the tall man in front of you. Personal reasons? It can't be. She was so scared of losing her job, that was the main reason she couldn't help you properly.

A loud laugh filled the classroom, and you spun around to spot the person laughing. Park Sunghoon's mouth was wide open as he laughed non-stop. His hands held his stomach, and his friends started laughing as well at the situation.

It's because of him. The teacher's absence, Yeonjun's dead kakaotalk. Park Sunghoon was behind them all.

What could he have done to that poor boy? What could he have done to a mother that now is jobless? And what will he do now to you?

You stormed off of the class, ignoring your principal's yellings. Your ears were ringing and your eyes filled with ears again. This can't be happening. Sunghoon is after all is nothing but a heartless monster.

"Wait up, hippo." And even now that you left like that, he chased behind you. He had placed his hands in his pockets, waiting for you to stop running. You couldn't bear his smug expression. You wanted to punch it off of him.

"What did you do to them?!" You cried out loud, falling into your knees. Sunghoon left a breathy giggle, walking closer to you. More and more tears till you couldn't breath. You were frozen in place, and Sunghoon had caught up to you.

"Nothing too bad, sweetheart. Are you worried about your little boyfriend or the teacher? Don't worry, you will see them again. Maybe." His hand went to touch your head, but you slapped it away.

His smirk twitched for a moment. Yet it stayed firm and grew bigger at your cries. He loved seeing you cry. It excited him.

"Why are you doing this to me? I am ugly, anti-social and a nerd. So why to me?" The question he never replied. He didn't do it on purpose because he really couldn't reply. But he could show you why. He was better at that.

"Oh, hippo, when will you understand?" Sunghoon spoke, caressing your cheeks before grabbing them to make you look at him. A sweet smile was on his lips. An innocent one. However, his eyes didn't follow his angelic image.

"You will never escape from me."

__________________

A/N: REMINDER THAT THIS IS JUST FICTIONAL AND DOESN'T SHOW THE IDOL'S TRUE CHARACTER. I DON'T ENCOURAGE ANY OF THE ACTIONS WRITTEN IN REAL LIFE, THIS IS JUST A ONE SHOT. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ!

© all rights reserved to me — i do not allow anyone to copy, translate, or republish my works. all my stories are purerly fictional.

[court-jobi]

For Your Eyes Only

💥Poll Reveal: Birthday Special💥

Pairing: Bakugou x tattooed!reader (fitting theme for biker!reader, no?)

Words: 2.2k

Rating: 18+ (heavy smexy insinuations near the end)

Warnings: NSFWish, reunited lovers, partial undressing, body worship, tattoos, possessive!Bakugou, basically foreplay, implied sexual touch, reunited and it feels so good

Summary:

Someone's missed their Pro-Hero while he's been off lighting up villains for seven weeks straight. The meantime does gives you the brilliant idea for a gorgeous new tattoo, though... all for your darling hero as a birthday present while he's away on mission, so you can keep the freshly inked secret close to your chest. Pretty nice surprise waiting for Bakugou to unwrap when he gets home, yeah?

A/N: Remember THIS POLL? Y'all gave me some splendid direction, thanks so much to everyone who voted! Might still very well run with some leftover ideas and make another fic for our other recipient (Birdie Boy Hawks), but hope you enjoy the winner~

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

"Ready for a surprise?"

Shrugging off his shoulder strap, Bakugou stares after you in snarky disbelief. He hasn’t even taken his shoes off yet, dammit. Still, he can’t help but smile.

"Hmm a surprise, huh? Takes a lot to surprise me, sweet thing…"

"Oh, I think I've done it this time,” you swing your hips on your way to the kitchen. “You haven't noticed it yet in all our calls- though I guess you haven't really had much chance to, lately."

"Tch– don't remind me,” he toes off his travel shoes by the table. “This whole ‘secret agent’ bullshit took way longer than I thought it would- been dying to get back to you. Haven't talked to you in days, or had decent reception enough to look at a photo in weeks; forget anything else. Speaking of…c’mere you.”

Bakugou slinks towards you, though you back up away from him, tugging your yukata taught from the back so he couldn't make a grab for it.

“What’re you runnin’ way for, heh??”

"Not letting you spoil it so fast there, babe~!”

You hop onto the kitchen counter with a couple careful adjustments to the overlapping ends of your robe, –sweet, sexy appeal coating your words.

"If you're gonna unwrap it, you've got to have a good view."

Bakugou teased the tip of his canines with an appreciative chuckle.

"You're my present, are ya?"

"Something like that."

Bakugou eyed you over with sneaky wonder. What on earth could you be hiding. 

His attention trailed down your legs- socked, but otherwise bare. He steps closer to you, wedging between your legs with a forceful jut of his hips, and cups your jaw into a long, starved kiss. You won't be getting out from under his grasp anytime soon, he's makin’ damn sure of that. 

It’s not your first kiss since Bakugou’s arrival through the door, but deeper than that quickie peck you'd given him at first sight. You’d hugged him tight around the neck in perfect bliss after such a long separation– only to dart away, killing any of his plans to never let you go. 

That long-awaited kiss of greeting was kept painfully brief by Bakugou’s standards– followed immediately by your retreat to the kitchen, where you’re now acting the most secretive you ever have in your entire relationship. 

He'd be crushed if he wasn't so confused. 

Parting, he rumbles directly into your waiting mouth.

"What are you up to, pretty?"

"No funny business. Just a great surprise." 

You’re toying with his hoodie’s knotted ends, cinching and uncinching the knots and seeking shy permission to strip him. Bakugou lets you, shedding his pullover that reeks of airport and leaving him in the black compression shirt he could trademark- wrinkled, half-rucked up his abs, and perfect.

To his surprise, you seem pleased enough with this level of undress and stop tugging on him altogether. At the moment where he’d expected you to slip his pants loose next, you merely push him back into place between your knees. Doing so allows the space to scoot just so towards the edge of the counter. 

You brace back on your palms, posture up and cutting your sights down to where his hands trail across your waist: he’s calculating your moves for hints, few as they are.

"Go on and open it."

Bakugou's brow still worked together as he fought his edging smile. 

What on earth could this be? His first best guess would be something sexy to wear, but he honestly finds that pointless since nothing lasts that long on you, anyhow. A laced-up view would be the most mouthwatering sight for the man who’s been starved of you for seven straight weeks… but he reckons this has to hold bigger shock factor. 

Following your lead and gentle instruction, Bakugou sweeps an eager hand back with a jerk to untie your sash and then bends over to divide the curtain of your kimono to your hips, granting him the sweet heat of your calves, knees, thighs, and-- 

Bakugou's jaw goes slack.

Atop your left leg, creased at the flesh of your hip lay his intended surprise: a fully realized tattoo of gorgeous black and grayed ink. 

The center of it all bore a gorgeously stylized pawprint -left empty of pigment for contrast- digging in slightly to the flesh, deliciously possessive, as if the full body were howling its word of ‘mine’ into the night. 

Claiming its territory. Guarding its beloved.

Naturally, the design didn't stop there. The paw and its indentions laid surrounded by a burst of swirls and sparks resembling firework patterns: some as sunbursts, some as residual trails of light intermixing with haze. The most notable hailed the shape of ‘Dynamight’s fanned accents– mimicking the rays of the earth’s brightest star– known by just about every folklore believer for strength and victory.

This shading is impeccable: saturated to perfection and a gorgeous display of artistry. There are billows of ombre smoke that spread throughout the design, creating a nebulous effect throughout the background, leaning into uncanny imagery of a certain someone’s quirk.

Each element features his take on ‘lucky charms’~ branded right there on your skin. 

The symbol was divine… and for a man with a faster tongue unafraid to speak his mind, Bakugou has no words.

Dumbstruck and in utter awe, Bakugou's fingers trail in slow motion towards your newest addition of skin ink. He releases a breath he hadn't realized he was holding back, crouching subconsciously to one side, revealing more and more skin with the lift of the kimono. The hipband of your underwear cut off the very spiky peak of a spark, but it didn't hide much of the body of the tattoo- all was plenty visible from the hip, down your thigh.

You sneak in a cautious breath with proud anticipation, drinking in Bakugou's every soft reaction. A little huff escapes your nose seeing your partner’s mouth hung open from the moment he locks sight of your leg– sights which have never parted since. 

Not to speak, not to swallow, barely to blink.

"Happy birthday, Katsuki~" you nearly sing.

Finally, Bakugou tears himself from his trance to lock into your brilliant eyes, their bright points muted in this low light by the kitchen window.

"When-- hah- ho-?"

"You were gone almost two months, honey," you reminded with a twinge of sultry pride. "Once you got orders on the op, I booked the outline, then another session for the fill. Healed up just in time for you to come crashing in the door."

With your non-balancing hand, you twine your fingers over his, swiping over the lower half of the tattoo. The movement matches the curve of the curling tufts of smoke laid there.

Bakugou follows as you move his hand along by your guidance, leading him lazily until you trace it down to the bottom, not wanting to cover up anything.

Taking a slow knee to study it with careful hands cupping your thighs, you coo light in your chest with a loving stroke on your hero’s arm as Bakugou gets comfortable on his knees.

"This-- this is days worth of work, for you.." Bakugou muttered breathlessly.

"‘Bout three full days, start to finish. Larza did such a good job, didn’t they." you beam, crediting your artist. With a little sparkle, you hedge your newly revealed excitement, "--Do you like it?"

Bakugou's squint through his surprised joy was adorable- though he'd deny ever resembling anything close to the word.

"Sweet’eart... S'fucking gorgeous."

His weak slack-jawed look turned into a grin, which drives up into a breathless laugh. 

But Bakugou is not done marveling yet…

You rake through his wild hair lovingly, doubling the intimate experience. 

“Three days,” he husks, "That's a long time, angel. You stayed so still for this one- there's not a stroke outta place."

Recounting each of your other tattoos that lie either on both your arms or other bits of tender skin, this piece held significantly more ‘natural cushion’ to work with.

"Probably hurt the least of any of them, honestly. M'not gonna lie n’ say it was a breeze near the hip..but hell, was the finished product worth it."

At this, Bakugou finally shows an emotion other than ‘want’- a flash of concern tents his brow and firms his lips as he lifts up to you.

You could laugh about it now; all discomfort is long gone after the insanely prickly healing process.

"Not too much of course! Just the usual. But the itching- oof, that wasn't funny. Had to hide out here for the first two days- couldn't wear any clothes over it yet. Just me, your pillow, my Kindle, and a vat of lotion to keep me from going out of my mind from the blistering. N’ I couldn’t handle talking to you, or else y-"

“-You faked a head cold, you crafty little DUMBASS!!” 

Bakugou pieced together your ‘random’ excuse for those days when he’d tried to touch base with you.

The sidenote of spending that much time alone -wearing next to nothing- sends Bakugou reeling into lust again in a heartbeat; all while you giggle at your successful ruse. 

Gifts to your lifemate have all carried meaning and touched on every part of his identity. Whether it was a symbol of your connection, or a splurge that he’d been pining for but far too tight-fisted to award himself, you stepped in and would take extra care into a special, well-thought out present on these occasions you felt were worth celebrating– even if he’d sooner forget. 

Bakugou’s arrival home landing on his birthday was a true afterthought to him; but not to you. 

Your skin laid newly adorned with more stunning art– but more notably, laid nearly bare under his hands. Right where he craved them, and right where he could smell your very essence - just a little closer. 

It’s no secret how much he loves every inch of you -inside and out- and in every curve and crevasse… and it’s here that his brain clicks together why you’d sat so precariously on the counter now.

Bakugou thanks you with his whole chest, the lovesick aura glowing even more beautiful with its rawness.

"This is absolutely beautiful- I love it, baby,” your striking boyfriend declares the impact your gift has had on him, "Fuck me, this is-- first the rings, then the new gauntlets, now this?"

"Well, anyone can see those first two in broad daylight,” you sass… then softer, “This one's just for you, Kats..."

"Damn right it is," Bakugou leans down, eyeing you before laying a euphoric kiss on the tip of your hipbone.

Heated lips kiss the same spot again, slower this time. Then another, further down. And again, and again- covering the art with wet lovemarks. You've moisturized the tattoo expertly, treating it with an essence of mango and verbena filling his senses– and a light coconutty taste, as he'd learned from the last time you'd gotten one done on your shoulder. 

Passing over the wolf’s claws, Bakugou bared his teeth ever so much, rumbling a happy growl to make you laugh- then moan. Pleasure, adoration, obsession.

With a flash of crimson up to you,  Bakugou hungered low and deeper still,

"Sounds like torture, angel. Don't know how you invite that sorta pain over and over…” 

Affected by his slow worship along your leg, you subconsciously tuck that leg in; anything to give him more space to cover, make sure nothing is missed.

“I keep tellin’ ya, it's not too bad. You’d look pretty hot with some ink, yourself.”

While the man disagrees with a playful sarcasm, his respect for both your thoughtfulness -and pain tolerance- is enough to get him hard.

Bakugou fantasizes about the whole process: taking a wildly rapid pen to you, laid on your side naked from the waist down, drawn u[on as a living, breathing canvas… all with the sole intention to be marked for his eyes only, forever. 

Three whole days.. Bakugou mulls over the work you’ve done. The statement you’ve made with this gift. The proud look in your eyes that doesn’t regret a single stroke, and has chosen to celebrate its claim on your body by giving him full rights to every inch of you…

“Wasn’t even ‘ere to hold your hand through it…” Bakugou offers sweetly. He would have been at your side, had he not been off saving the world yet again. 

A touch of dominance comes through his observation, eliciting a delightful reaction he knows will follow. You affirm; giving a sweet, pliant moan of agreement, while you shake your head in a ‘no’ for your past loneliness. You’re ordinarily plenty self-sufficient even in his absences, but play the role of the left-behind lover adorably well.

While one powerful hand teases needy fingers over the seam of your underwear with the intent to rip them off and another reaches for your ankle with plans to chuck it over his shoulder, the birthday boy relishes in the sights, sounds, and feel of you already–

“...I should make up for your troubles now, shouldn't I?” Bakugou rumbles like spring’s telltale thunder in front of your core, ready and waiting to taste, “Gotta thank you properly, yeah?"

[fadedin2u]

hi rose toy, could you write about ellie comforting reader with body insecurities? love your writing and have a good day!!

here’s a little drabble!! this was super therapeutic to write, thank u for the lovely request anon!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i just- i don’t like myself, ellie. i don’t like anything about how i look,” you finally admit, sick of your own thoughts plaguing your mind.

ellie’s eyes are full of heartache as she says, “but i do. i like everything about how you look.”

the response makes your heart bleed more, and your lip trembles.

“you have to say that. you’re my girlfriend.”

ellie shakes her head, “hey. that’s not true. i’m not gonna say anything to you that i don’t mean, you know that.”

you look down, not wanting her to see the tears building in your eyes. “i just… i can’t help but notice how many fucking things are wrong with my body. with my face. with me.”

ellie frowns, “what makes any of it wrong? where’s the guide book telling you how you’re supposed to look?”

you get irritated in spite of knowing ellie’s good intentions, “everything tells me i’m supposed to look different than how i do, ellie. you’re the fucking beauty standard, no offense, but you have no idea what it feels like to not be.”

ellie’s eyes flash with hurt from your words, but she covers it well.

you sigh, ashamed, wiping your face, “i’m sorry, els, really. i’m not trying to pick a fight with you or make you feel like shit too, i just hate living with how i look everyday.”

ellie smoothes her hands over your sides, “do you want to know what i think?”

you take a breath and slowly nod.

“not everything about you fits the beauty standard. that’s true. but the beauty standard was created by rich, white men who are trying to make a goddamn profit off of women fucking hating themselves. so women just perpetuate this bullshit standard, because they feel like it’s attached to their worth as a human being, and everyone feels like shit, except for the dudes who’s pockets are getting fuller each time someone goes in to get a fucking lypo treatment or a nose job.”

you stay quiet, listening, even though this isn’t necessarily new information to you.

ellie takes a breath, “so, maybe not all of you fits into that stupid model of a fake woman, but how the fuck does that make you less beautiful? i love how you look naturally, because you’re fucking real, gorgeous, and human. i don’t want a fantasy girl that fits perfectly into a porn-brain infected, white, straight, limp-dick’s wet dream. i want you. i want how you look naturally, when you’re healthy and happy. because that’s when you look the most beautiful to me, no matter what.”

you take a breath. “so you’re honestly saying you wouldn’t prefer if i was more stereotypically attractive?”

ellie rolls her eyes, “that doesn’t fucking mean anything to me. i’m very fucking attracted to you, and that’s all that matters. i wouldn’t change a thing about how you look, ever.”

you nod slowly, and she pulls you into a tight hug.

“it makes me sick that you feel like you’re innately wrong in some way, because that couldn’t be further from the truth. if you’re giving yourself enough food, taking care of your body, and you’re happy, that’s exactly how you should be looking. okay?”

you know that ellie’s words don’t take away your feelings of insecurity, but it helps soothe some of the sting, the hurt.

“i’m sorry for making you preach self-love to me,” you say, smiling a little, trying to lighten the mood.

ellie looks serious as she says, “i will again. anytime you need it. i cant stand the thought of the most perfect thing in my life hating how they naturally look. i’ll say it a billion times if you need it, i promise.”

she kisses your forehead.

“do you think take-out would help you feel better? because i think it would.”

[chilling-seavey]

Winter Warmers: Day 23 — Vibrator & Stockings

↳ Summary: It's Christmas morning and George had slipped an adult gift into your stocking

↳ Word Count: 788

↳ Warnings: Mentions of sex toys and suggestive themes in unideal situations. George thinks he's funny and cheeky and clever

↳ Winter Warmers Prompt List | The Way It Goes Masterlist

The living room was a mess of scrapped wrapping paper and ribbons and new toys, your little family sitting amongst the mess on the floor with the coffee table pushed out of the way. Christmas morning was always a mess of blissful chaos, time frozen by the magic of the season that had revitalized itself in your heart since having children. It was the innocence of it all; seeing the world from the eyes of your little ones without having yet been tainted by the cruel presence of adult reality. 

You housed a content smile as you watched your son finish opening his stocking, the pile of chocolates and little trinkets and gifts scattered around him on the floor. Although you and George shared the responsibility of shopping for your children, your own stockings were a complete surprise: filled by each other to open on Christmas morning. George gestured to you next and your little family watched as you started to take out things from your stocking. It always impressed you how good of a shopper he was; he always knew exactly what to get you. 

Amongst the standard chocolate, he had tucked in a new pair of cozy reading socks, a gift card to your favourite restaurant, a few scented soaps from that store in the city you really liked, a magazine or two, a few little things to aide with your hobbies…he just always got everything right. Your son and daughter—at seven and four, respectfully—watched on politely even if they were itching to start playing with their presents. You moved quickly to pacify them, finally reaching for the last thing. 

The modest white box fit easily in your hand, donning the unmissable rich pink logo at the top: Pink Cherry. Your eyes widened as you skimmed over the image of the sex toy that was in the box you were currently holding in front of your children. An image of the sleek slightly curved silicone in a dark navy colour with a circular head beneath one end took up most of the front of the box. The label read: ‘The Womanizer Clitoral Air Stimulator’. George let out a small snort he tried to hide as if knowing exactly what he did. 

Your immense shock had your children suddenly interested. Your son peeked over to try and get a better look at the box, “What is it?!”

You quickly held it to your chest to keep him from seeing it, even if he wouldn’t understand, answering quickly, “It’s a massager.”

“I wanna see!” your daughter added, crawling across the rug for a glimpse too.

Holding the box behind your back and out of sight, you shot your husband a glare and a sharp warning under your breath, “George William Russell.”

“Oh, not the full name.” he chuckled, a slight pink to his cheeks and yet he still replied cheekily, “You don’t like the massager, love?”

“No, it’s lovely.” you said politely, “Thank you.”

George distracted the kids with one of their new toys to get them to leave you and your poor blushing face alone for a moment. With them playing together across the living room, stockings now done, George scooted over beside you and rested against the front of the couch with you on the rug. 

“There’s something wrong with you, you know that?” you told him, your tone only half-serious, voice low to not be heard by your children.

“Your other vibrator died…you were in need of a replacement.” George reminded you cooly. 

“Yeah, and that’s nice, but gifting it to me in front of our children?” 

George shrugged smugly and tucked an arm around your shoulders, “They don’t understand.”

“Maybe not, but they’re going to think back to this moment in fifteen years and be hit with a horrifying sense of realization.” you insisted. 

“They’ll be fine.” George brushed it off with an irritating sense of reassurance. 

He then rested his head against yours while his other hand reached down to turn the box to face the two of you so he could see it too. There was a pause between you as you both stared at it with the background of your childrens’ noisy playing. You pursed your lips amidst the strange balance of annoyance and amusement at his cheeky gift. 

“That’s the right one, that?” asked George. 

“Yeah,” you flipped over the box to read the details on the back, “I think it’s one up from the one I had actually.”

“Good. Only the best for my lady.” George gushed and pressed a kiss to your temple before resting his head down against the same spot. After a beat, he asked, “Wanna take it on a test run tonight?”

“George William.”

“What?!”

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[jarate-pissman]

Silly Doodle of TF2 if they were dogs. I wanted their accessories to resemble their human counterparts, but it can be difficult because putting a dog into human clothes is hard to draw.

Scout: A Boston Terrier. A breed known for being lively and happy, it's friendly and open to strangers. Scout as a guard dog would show you where his owners keep the valuables if you give him even a crumb of attention. Also, they can be bug eyed and derpy at times.

Pyro: A Dalmatian. Duh. With a bag on their head that resembles pyro.

Soldier: Solly is an American Pitbull Terrier. The fact that it's a controversial breed makes it an even better fit! ABPTs were used in combat missions in WWI and II. In WWII they appeared often on war propaganda posters. One of the most well known ABPT was named Sgt Stubby in WWI, and he earned himself numerous medals. Stubby is probably the deciding factor. Soldier has an American flag bandana and his food bowl over his eyes. He smells faintly of rotten bbq ribs.

Heavy: An Ovcharka (Caucasian Shepherd) while originally the breed hailed from Georgia, the USSR pushed to have the breed standardized. The huge dog breed was originally bred for guarding purposes, and has a serious and protective nature. Perfect for guarding his medic. He greatly treasures his Sandvich, a stuffed squeaky toy from the bargain bin at the pet store.

Demoman: A one-eyed Scottish terrier with a sturdy body and a manly beard. My personal experience with Scotties as a dog groomer is that they are absolute assholes who are wary of strangers squeezing their ass glands. I'm pretty sure Demo would bite me too if I touched his asshole. Demo has a squeaky bouncy ball that resembles a sticky bomb, one eye, and a hat that looks like a beanie.

Engineer: An American Bulldog. Mainly this was influenced by their stocky body and their friendly personality. Bulldogs are also a very intelligent dog breed that possess high endurance, agility, and strength. American Bulldogs were bred with the intention that they would be a farm dog. I would have gone with the Blue Lacy, but it didn't feel very Engie, despite being the only breed outta Texas. Engineer dog has doggles.

Spy: A french bulldog. Both the French Bull Dog and the Boston Terrier both descended from the Bulldog, so in a way they are related. While a poodle would have fit Spy as well, Frenchies are pretty expensive in their own right, and the cost of their medical bills might as well cost 5 poodles. They're like the luxury bulldog, and I feel like the fact that Spy and Scout's breeds resemble each other makes it better. Since dogs don't usually wear balaclavas, Spy-dog got his face stuck in a pair of red/blu underwear and started wearing them ever since.

Medic: What dog is more demanding, bratty, and sadistic than a Pomeranian? Pomeranians are extroverted, lively, alert, and highly intelligent dogs of German origin. They can be aggressive to humans and dogs to try and prove themselves. They don't seem to realize how small they are, and somehow wind up ruling the house anyways, even if there are other dogs. I can just imagine Medic-dog commanding Heavy-dog, and Heavy-dog going along with whatever he says. Medic has tiny glasses and a stray hair curl.

Sniper: A dingo. Aloof, mysterious, and a bit scrawny for his size, he's an excellent hunter who can brave the scorching bush and all Australia has to offer.

[honeytabbies]

OKAY. HERE WE GO. my black bulls doggies!!!! :D

there's definitely a noticeable difference in style/quality of some of these just due to time between each design and/or how i was feeling at the time of drawing them (these hot and rainy summer months have been super rough on me)

ALSO they were all done symmetrically so that i wouldn't burn out and could actually finish them LOL . OK EVERYBODY BELOW

starting off with asta, a husky/coyote mutt!! :D in my au, devil users end up becoming hybrids of whatever their devil is. so since liebe is a coyote, that's what asta is too!! (also, i haven't drawn him yet, but yuno is a malamute :D similar looking breeds but different since they're not actually related!)

(here's liebe too hehe, scrappy lil coyote!!)

then of course, noelle, who's a saluki!! a very regal breed for a very royal gal!! i thought making her pigtails into her ears was a fun idea HEHEHE

(+ an alternate design version!)

here's finral, he's a shetland sheepdog!! gentle and sweet and always trying to herd his people together :) you might notice that with some of my designs, i end up doing extra scarring; that's usually just personal headcanons, as i think some injuries would be too grievous to fully heal. though some (for instance, gauche) don't have a canon story behind them, i just think they're fitting

vanessa, who's a cavalier king charles spaniel!! her ears sorta blend into her hair lol, i had an alternate version where they were the same darker brown as her fur but i decided that them blending in looked better and fit the breed standard as well.

gauche, the ever wary american akita!! being a fiercely loyal and protective breed, but aloof and suspicious of strangers.

then there's grey, who's a long-haired chihuahua!! sweet and skittish HEHE, also i haven't drawn it yet but i've always imagined her big transformation disguise that she's first introduced as to be a rottweiler LOL

next up is luck, a jack russell terrier!! i've always thought this was a very fitting breed pick, intelligent but highly energetic and a little mischievous !!!

and of course, magna is never far behind luck; he's a dobermann pinscher!! similar to luck in energy and intelligence, but even more fiercely protective of his loved ones.

GORDON!!! actually one of my favourite black clover characters, he's a dalmatian not only because of the fitting aesthetic, but also because of his kind and sensitive personality!

the masked supermage zora, a german shepherd! watchful and sometimes stubborn but loyal nonetheless made this pick fairly easy to come to. though, before getting to see more of him, my initial pick was actually a kai ken!

charmy's design is one that i'm the most proud of for sure; i mentioned in an earlier post that the different peoples are different species of animals. well charmy is a half toy poodle, half american badger!! i thought a badger was a VERY fitting pick, as they are generally unbothered by much unless their food is threatened LOL

and finally, lastly (for now) is nero!! she's a bull terrier, but i really wanted to keep her twin tails from her anti-bird form! her outfit is definitely the one i edited the most, i just wanted to give her something more practical out of personal preference.

additionally, henry is an old english sheepdog, nacht is a black norwegian elkhound/fox, and yami is a wolfdog!

I HAVE SOME OTHER CHARACTERS DOODLED HERE AND THERE but nothing else really finished yet. if there's a specific character anyone would like to see i would be SO happy to draw/doodle them to show off!! i honestly have a huge list of dog/cat breeds picked out for every character i could think of; i just am hellishly indecisive and can never pick who to start on next AHDSJAGDJSDK

THE POSITIVE RECEPTION TO MY ART SO FAR HAS MADE ME SO HAPPY BTW AUAGGHHH i have no idea how/if im able to reply to people directly but just know that i keep reading over everyone's reblog tags and stimming like crazy IM SO HAPPY THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH AUHGHFEHGGRH

[millenianthemums]

i watched jacob geller’s video “Time Loop Nihilism” for the first time today. i love jacob geller but for some reason i skipped this video til now, and i’m so glad i finally found it, because weirdly it gave me some big inspiration for Bill Cipher characterization.

rambling under the cut

so, like, when a character’s trapped in a time loop for long enough, they stop seeing their actions as having any consequences, because they don’t have any lasting impact on the world. they start seeing the world they live in like a speedrunner sees the video game they’ve been running. they start seeing the people around them like neutral objects that make noises and do things but don’t really matter. they’re toys to play with. and you can break them as many times as you want, in as many ways as you want, and then they fix themselves and it’s like nothing happened.

but still, most time loop stories end with the loop breaking and the character just… moving on. returning to normal life. but how could someone ever do that, really? after all that time, all those things you did? even if no one else will ever know about it, YOU will. you will know that you are a person who did those things. that will never not be true again.

Bill wasn’t in a time loop, but he has been alive for one trillion years. one trillion years is a REALLY LONG TIME. like, our universe has existed for 13.8 billion years. a trillion is 1,000 billions. in a trillion years, Bill could have lived from the beginning of our universe to right now about 72 times. who knows how many universes he’s lived from the beginning to the end of? not even to start on the galaxies, the planets, the PEOPLE in his life. i’m genuinely not doing the math on how many people Bill might have known in his life because i will get nauseous.

Bill is like Ama from the Through The Flash short story, but on a totally different level. how could you possibly internalize the idea that hurting people matters at ALL when you’ve lived through eternity a million times and watched everything you’ve ever done disappear into the abyss of time over and over? a trillion years. he likes killing people and he hates getting bored. how many new, creative ways of torturing and murdering people do you think somebody like Bill could dream up in a TRILLION YEARS?

and then this AU is like, welcome back to survival mode buddy! things matter again now! none of that crazy stuff you got used to doing is gonna fly anymore! also this is your last chance. fuck this up, and you’re dead forever. have fun!

i imagine for a while he’s just dead set on finding some kind of loophole. he can’t accept the idea of going back to caring about things again. he wants creative mode back and he’d gonna find the cheat code, dammit.

but then he makes friends with Mabel. and now suddenly, whether he wants it to or not, something in his life really, REALLY matters. he cares about this kid. this human kid who’s gonna live like 65 more years tops. and now he has, by his standards, an infinitesimally short time period to get his shit together and become somebody who can actually be a genuine friend to another person, despite all the terrible stuff he did, in the show and in the incomprehensible eternity that came before it. how is he gonna do that?? i don’t know. i’m still figuring it out. it’ll be fun!!!

but yeah, i was struck, hearing the summary of Ama’s conversation with her neighbor. it just fit, in my mind, with everything i’ve been thinking about. no matter how much he changes, Bill will never again be somebody who didn’t do terrible things. whether or not the effects of those things exist outside him anymore, they weren’t free of consequence. he is still the person who killed and tortured and exterminated billions of sentient people, even when he’s laughing at Mabel’s silly jokes or being terrible at video games. all he can do is keep moving forward.

thanks so much if you read all of this. <3

[heliads]

Your other Strollonso fic was AWESOME so can I request a Strollonso mafia!AU maybe? Like maybe it’s an arranged marriage so mob boss Nando can keep his alliance with Larry Stroll and they’re super awkward around each other at first but get closer and then Lance gets kidnapped and hurt by a rival and Nando just flips his shit and tears apart the city to find him and they have a really nice lil kiss once Lance is safe and ok? Thanks so much 💕💕

'not just one of your many toys' - fernando x lance

masterlist

It is Fernando Alonso’s own wedding day, and he’s already half an hour late. It’s not a good look, certainly, but no one in their right minds would ever say that the head of the Spanish mob has ever been good, so, according to Fernando, this just fits right in with the rest of his grim reputation. It’s all about appearances, isn’t it?

Today, though, it’s not beyond Fernando to admit that he should have done better. Today matters. Fernando is not stupid enough to have actually fallen in love with someone, so he doesn’t have to worry about disappointing a heartsick fiancée. Besides, if he wanted someone like that, he would have managed to twist his way inside their mind enough that they would forgive him for this tardiness the second he asked.

No, today isn’t a matter of love. Rumor has it that the Spanish mob had their hearts cut out in an expensive procedure when they turned eighteen, and although that’s an obvious fabrication since they’re all still bleeding rich red, it’s true enough by emotional standards. If you love, you die. Fernando Alonso does not accept weakness. If he ever fell in love, he would kill the object of his desires first so they could never drag him down again.

This, then, is yet another business transaction. Fernando has been courting the Stroll family for years now, eyeing their billions ever since they made their first killing, but now, he’s finally managed to force his way in. A young man is waiting on an altar somewhere across the city; Lawrence Stroll’s only son, Lance. Fernando and Lawrence cut this deal a month ago, and it took far too many pulled strings for Fernando to fuck it up like this now. If he were smart, he would have been there early.

Instead, his knife is halfway inside another man’s chest cavity, and Fernando is no closer to wrapping this up than he had been fifteen minutes ago when he realized he was late in the first place. He can’t afford to rush this, though. Traitors never flourish in the mob, least of all with Fernando’s men. Fernando has a reputation to uphold, his marital status be damned. If he doesn’t make this guy a prime example of what happens when you cross Fernando Alonso, his whole business will be riddled with holes until it all comes crashing down.

Still, Fernando can’t afford to piss off the Strolls more than he has already. Jerking his knife out of a partially deflated lung with a hiss of annoyance, Fernando turns to his second in command, Carlos Sainz. The younger, that is. The father is somewhere getting rich off of his son’s bloodlust, as all dutiful parents should be. “You’ll have to carry on with the rest. I was needed thirty minutes ago.”

Carlos swears under his breath. “Shit, I forgot about the wedding. I can make Alguersuari take over if you want me there. It can’t hurt to have backup, I don’t trust the fucking Canadians not to pull some shit.”

Fernando shakes his head. “Stay, I need a guarantee this is handled properly. Besides, I’ll have others there. This isn’t the day that I die.”

Carlos doesn’t look convinced. “You’re going into their stronghold. All of their guys will be there.”

Fernando chuckles. “It’s not a death trap, Carlos, it’s a church. Even Lawrence isn’t bloodthirsty enough to off me en una iglesia.”

Carlos makes a snorting sound that lets Fernando know just what he thinks of that, but one sharp look from Fernando silences the last of his objections. Carlos is a good kid, and Fernando trusts him the most out of anyone here, but in the end, it’s Fernando’s show, and he’s got to make sure none of his men are bashing his soon-to-be husband’s father any more than absolutely necessary.

Fernando cleans off his hands with a rag, grimacing at the spots of purple and green already starting to flower over his knuckles. Bruises on his hands don’t exactly add to the wedding atmosphere, but everyone there already knows what he’s capable of, so this should be no surprise. He exits the building and directs his driver to the church. They get there as fast as they can, but, judging by the stony expression on Lawrence Stroll when Fernando arrives at last, it wasn’t fast enough. He’s only thirty-five minutes late, though. By all accounts, it’s not even that bad.

Lawrence takes him by the arm, leading him casually yet forcefully to one of the small rooms in the back of the church used for the wedding party to prepare themselves before the big event.

“Where have you been?” Lawrence glowers the second the door closes.

“Traffic,” Fernando muses. “It’s terrible in these parts.”

Lawrence arches a silver brow. “You have blood on your cuffs.”

Fernando glances down at his sleeves and fights a wince. It’s only a few drops, but the copper stains still manage to stand out against the fine material. “Really bad traffic. Tourists should have their licenses revoked if they go more than ten below the limit.”

Lawrence doesn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes, which is good, because neither is Fernando. None of them like this deal, but they have no better options, so here they are. “Do not forget what rests upon this agreement,” Lawrence intones. “This is not some pretty spring wedding. I must admit, I was relieved when I signed my son over to you because I thought you of all people would understand everything that depends on this. And then you showed up late.”

Fernando tilts his head to the side slightly. “I know exactly what this means. I signed the contract. Let me be the first to assure you that I have no second thoughts. I was merely handling business.”

The air in the prep room is damn near icy. Lawrence is good at the scary act, but Fernando has been inspiring fear in the hearts of better mob men for decades now, and he isn’t the type to back down. Fernando may have coveted the Stroll money, but Lawrence wanted something too, or he never would have agreed to this in the first place. Fernando has had a long and bloody climb to the top of the Spanish mob, and Lawrence wants the notoriety and security of being forever associated with that kind of success. What tie could be better than a marriage? Lawrence had already married off his daughter to a lesser gun of the Bulls, but, well, there was always the other heir.

The legalization of gay marriage did a lot for mob patriarchs. One piece of paper, one actual legal thing about their whole enterprise, could genuinely complete an union between two families. Now, when searching for tenuous threads on which to conduct alliances, wealthy fathers with bloody hands wouldn’t just have to pray for daughters, they could also marry off their useless sons. 

Fernando knows for a fact that there’s been talk of Charles Leclerc from the Chevaux Rouges getting married off to one of the other dime-a-dozen Frenchmen. Pierre Gasly’s father has been pushing that agenda since both young men were boys, but Fernando also knows the way that one of his own best men, Carlos, has been eyeing the Monegasque, so maybe the deal wasn’t yet set in stone after all. Fernando should get after Carlos for that. Pretty boys aren’t worth toppling alliances. He’ll get himself in trouble faster than a sports car can accelerate. 

After all, this was supposed to be about politics, not actual affection. Fernando is the perfect example of this. He could count the times he’s seen Lance Stroll on one hand. The boy lingers in the back of his father’s meetings, pulling exaggerated faces when he’s certain nobody can see him, but Fernando isn’t even sure he’s actually talked to him more than forced interactions conducted in an effort to make it seem like Fernando is a team player. Then again, he doesn’t actually have to enjoy Lance’s company. He just needs his hand in marriage.

One of Lawrence’s men hurries into the room, holding his phone aloft. “A body was just discovered across town. Strung up by the church spire.”

Lawrence eyes Fernando coolly. “Traffic?”

Fernando just sinks his teeth into a matching icy grin. “Traffic,” he agrees.

Lawrence reaches forward, taking hold of Fernando’s hands like he’s praying the rosary. “Do not put any further stains upon my family,” he intones. “Waste the money I give you, fine. Kill your enemies on my own dime. But do not misuse my son. And do not keep him waiting any longer.”

Lawrence squeezes abruptly, causing the rapidly forming bruises on Fernando’s knuckles to twinge with fresh pain, then pulls away. Fernando follows him into the sanctuary of the church. Men in varying shades of black suits watch him like hawks from both sides of the aisle, women most of them probably don’t know lingering on their arms. At the front, Lance’s best man eyes Fernando with particular hatred, but Esteban Ocon has despised Fernando ever since a certain deal went south last year, so Fernando doesn’t pay him much attention. It’s very easy to ignore the Frenchman, which makes Esteban even more irate.

Fernando studies his fiancé. He’s not even certain that Lance was in the room when Lawrence and Fernando agreed on the marriage union, but it’s not like it would have mattered anyway. Lawrence makes the decisions for the Strolls. In a way, Fernando feels like he’s been courting the Stroll patriarch more than his son, but it’s all in the interest of a pawn to move around. Both Lawrence and Fernando can agree on that, apparently.

Lance considers Fernando with vague interest, eyeing him up and down with a lifted brow. He’s not bad to look at, all things considered. He supposes it could have been worse; for a while, that Russian upstart, Mazepin, was thought to be someone to coerce into a marriage, but then his family was revealed to be a bunch of rats and were subsequently driven out of the business. Fernando feels he dodged a bullet there.

The ceremony is conducted without much difficulty. Lawrence insisted on an extravagant reception so they can at least pretend this is a wedding and not just a job reassignment, and Fernando has been dreading this part all day. Carlos turns up an hour into the reception, matching bruises dotting his knuckles. Fernando tells him to enjoy himself as a reward for his good work, but not to have too much fun. Drunkenness and debauchery on a night like this would condemn Fernando even more than showing up late to his own wedding.

Fernando completes circuit after circuit of the event hall, shaking hands with Stroll associates and hearing congratulations from his associates. Many mob men are here as a sign of respect; Esteban brought Pierre as well, so the French are adequately represented, plus young Mick from the Germans. 

Nico Rosberg usually turns up to these sorts of things, so Fernando is sort of surprised that he didn’t show, but then he notices Lewis Hamilton talking with his fellow Silver Arrow George Russell by the bar and the pieces click together again. Now that had been a split to remember. Lewis and Nico had run things together since they were kids, but when Lewis switched sides overnight, Nico had been left without a right hand man when he was about to consider a major deal. It was a stab in the back from the one person Rosberg had thought was his most loyal ally. All of the informants had been simmering for ages afterwards. Talk about a scandal.

After greeting both Arrows, Fernando has to steer Carlos away from the Chevaux Rouges again– he’ll have to have a conversation with the younger man about that later, it does no good to make it so easy to tell what you want– and spoken to Charles Leclerc once he was alone again. Lawrence Stroll has been satisfied by the turnout, so he’s actually in a good mood when he and Fernando talk lightly about business later on.

By the end of the reception, Fernando has managed to have a conversation with everyone but his new husband. When the lights are turned off at the end, they’re both in the same car heading to Fernando’s mansion, but Fernando has to take another half dozen quick calls from regretful allies who were otherwise occupied tonight, so they don’t say a word until they arrive at the door.

Fernando lets them in, muttering something under his breath about needing to get Lance a set of keys. He gives Lance a rough tour of the estate, essentially just enough to know where to sleep, work, and take meals, but when he’s done talking, Lance still stands there expectantly in front of the door to Fernando’s office.

At first, Fernando hardly even notices that he remains. He would have assumed the younger man would want to go to bed. It’s late, and although Fernando still has plenty of work to be done, Lance is likely used to a life of comfort, so he’d want to catch up on sleep. It isn’t until he starts grabbing files from a cabinet at the far side of the room that Lance coughs pointedly.

Fernando glances up as he stacks papers on his desk. Now that he’s got access to Lance’s funds, he’ll need to go over potential expenditures for the coming months. There are a couple of business ventures he’s been waiting to accelerate until this windfall, but now he can race towards whatever he pleases. So long as it turns a good profit, of course.

“Do you need something? There should be servants down the hall if you require anything.” He says, glancing back down at the files in his hands.

Lance shakes his head. “No, I was waiting for you.”

Fernando frowns. “Whatever for?”

It’s strange to see someone so high up in the mob who still hasn’t yet learned the value of a good poker face. Fernando can actually see the incredulity appear in Lance’s eyes and spread to his dropped-jaw stare. “It’s our wedding night, Fernando.”

“I am aware,” Fernando says. “I was there at the wedding.”

Lance scoffs. “Yes, but– come on, man, do I have to say it?”

Fernando looks Lance dead in the eyes for what might be the first night all evening. “You don’t have to say anything, Lance. I’m not oblivious, even if you seem to be. This is not a normal marriage. We are wed in name and fortune but nothing else. If your bed is cold, turn up the heat or imagine someone else is there. I have work to do.”

Lance’s brow furrows with indignation, but when he speaks again, his words are tight and controlled. So he can manage his anger, at least. That’s a start. “I see. Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight,” Fernando says, just barely managing to keep his mouth from twitching into a disbelieving smile when he says it. Are they children? Should he offer Lance a nightlight? Wishing him goodnight. Please. Fernando is a professional killer. They do not tell each other soft goodbyes when they wipe out entire bloodlines.

Fernando has no idea what his husband ends up doing, but he stays up late to sift through more ledgers. The second his mind begins to cloud from exhaustion, he goes straight to bed, and wakes respectably early into the morning. He works out with the same base routine he’s used since he first entered the business, of course adding a few repetitions or new drills here and there where he can sense the weakness in his muscles. 

By the time he’s showered, dressed, and entered the kitchen for some coffee and breakfast, Lance has just begun to stumble downstairs, hair flattened by his pillow and half sticking up. He’s still in his pajamas, which consist of sweats and a shirt for some tennis player Fernando doesn’t recognize.

Fernando arches a brow at him. “Sleep well?”

“Wonderfully,” Lance grumbles, the syllables turning into a yawn halfway through.

Again, Fernando feels the need to swallow a laugh. He doesn’t think anyone’s spoken to him without an undercurrent of fear in a very long time, yet here Lance Stroll is, oversleeping and walking around his mansion in leisure wear. Technically, it is Lance’s mansion as well now, but still. Fernando doesn’t even think his sister dared to wear anything other than business casual when she visited.

Fernando does need Lance to feel valued, though. The last thing he needs is Lance complaining to his father that Fernando keeps judging him or something, then this whole thing could go up in flames. Fernando can be a dutiful husband even if it kills him.

“Would you like something to eat?” Fernando asks politely. “We have fruit, eggs, anything. Our chef can make it.”

“A bagel, maybe?” Lance says, yawning again.

Fernando nods. “I’ll ask the chef to prepare some.”

Although Fernando does his best to keep his true emotions in check, Lance, apparently, is beyond the same need to not laugh at his spouse. “Dude, it’s a bagel. One ingredient. Surely you don’t need the chef.”

Fernando scowls. “I just wanted to ask him what types we had in stock. I am aware that bagels are a simple food to serve.”

Lance chuckles again. “You’re telling me the head of the Spanish mob knows every one of his enemies but not every one of his bagels? Terrible priorities, man.”

Fernando is starting to realize that marriage might be difficult. See, if Lance could just be properly nervous around him like every other son of a mob boss Fernando has met, they wouldn’t have to have this terrible interaction, but no, Lance seems immune to everything. Delightful.

He extends a hand towards the extensive pantry. “Feel free to check by yourself. I’m sure it’s incredibly important for the sons of mob bosses to be able to verify their own information. Even on bagels.”

Lance grins sarcastically. “Technically, I’m not just the son of a mob boss, but the husband of one, too. If you’re going to mock me like everyone else, at least do it well.”

Fernando frowns. “I’m not trying to mock you.”

Lance spares a disbelieving glance towards Fernando, then turns back to his search for breakfast. “Really? Is that why this is the longest you’ve ever spoken to me since you realized you could get my dad’s money by marriage?”

Fernando can’t entirely argue with that, so he doesn’t. “You don’t have to hate me, Lance.”

“Oh, I don’t,” Lance says cheerfully. “I’m just pointing out the obvious. Seeing as we’re going to be stuck together for the foreseeable future, I would advise you to do the same. And in case you were curious, you have both plain bagels and cinnamon raisin.”

With that, Lance breezes back out of the kitchen, carbohydrate prize secured. Seconds later, Carlos files into the kitchen, glancing curiously back in the direction Lance had gone. “Sorry to bother you, I just had the information on Verstappen that you wanted. What the hell happened there? And since when have you had bagels in the house?”

“No idea,” Fernando says tiredly. It answers both questions well enough.

Lance Stroll proves himself to be more and more of an enigma as the days go by. He joins Fernando for meals only when Fernando asks, but then he seems disappointed that they don’t do anything else together. He zones out when Fernando talks business, then always gets annoyed when Fernando so much as alludes to the conditions leading to their marriage. Fernando can’t decide if Lance is actually happy with the arrangement– or, as Fernando is beginning to suspect, if he had any say in the matter at all. Strange for the heir to the Stroll legacy to have grown up with so little sway over his father’s business. It is as if Lawrence expected to live forever, so he never bothered teaching Lance the ropes.

Fernando tries to make it work. A little. Not enough. He’s busy, that’s all, he doesn’t have time to babysit a husband who seems compelled to fuck with him on each and every turn. It’s like Lance gets joy from being a nuisance. And yeah, sometimes when Lance’s attitude is directed towards Carlos or anyone who isn’t Fernando, it is pretty funny, but Fernando has not made a career of getting laughed at and he doesn’t intend to start now. 

Once, Lance insists that his room is far too cold to be slept in, so he’ll just have to sleep in Fernando’s room instead. Fernando personally walks into Lance’s room to check it out himself, but it’s actually freezing in there despite adjusting the thermostat, and Lance refuses any other solution, so they spend a silent night on polar opposite sides of Fernando’s bed. The next day, Fernando is informed by the staff that a wrench was discovered in the heater that led to Lance’s room, jammed perfectly so that the temperature could not be changed. Neither of them mention it again, and Lance goes back to sleeping in his own room.

Carlos asked him once why he puts up with it– Lance’s teasing, his sarcasm, everything��� but it’s not like he has any choice. If Fernando truly gets desperate, he goes to the printouts of his bank account and just stares at the numbers. Solace can be found in deposits of numbers followed by many, many zeroes.

Over time, the good moments start to crop up like a five o’clock shadow. Fernando takes Lance on a drive to visit some allies and they drive through glorious countryside in a sports car more expensive than any of the land as far as the eye can see. They play a couple of rounds of tennis in a court on Fernando’s estate. Lance’s sister visits and everyone’s in a good mood.

Somehow, though, something always happens to sour each and every small win. Lance squirms in the passenger seat of the car Fernando bought with his father’s money and picks a fight about missing Sebastian, who was the second best marriage candidate until Fernando put his name in the ring. When they’re out on the courts, Fernando asks why Lance seems far more passionate about tennis than business; Lance doesn’t realize it’s a joke and asks how long until Fernando gives up on him, just like Lawrence. Fernando is walking through his mansion late at night when he overhears Lance talking to Chloe in hushed voices about what she did to make Scotty like her, as if Lance needs coaching to even handle Fernando at all.

They fight and they make tentative peace. The ground gets shakier before it solidifies. Eventually, they manage to keep a respectable truce that varies throughout the week. They drink together, they talk together. Lance keeps lingering at the door of his room in a way that makes Fernando want to do something he regrets, but he never commits. Somehow, he knows that even one mistake is all it will take to destroy him forever.

Fernando is in between conference calls one day when Lance pops into his office. “I’m going to be back late tonight,” he announces. “Meeting Esteban.”

Fernando nods. “Want me to drive?”

“You’re in meetings,” Lance points out.

Fernando shrugs. “I can skip them.”

This makes Lance grin triumphantly, like he’s somehow proved himself far more valuable than even Fernando’s beloved ledgers and printouts. “That’s so unlike you, I’m charmed. I’ll be fine, we’re just grabbing drinks. See you later.”

Fernando lifts a hand in farewell when Lance does the same, and watches the man disappear back down the hall. Although it seems strange to say, Fernando swears the mansion seems emptier that evening. It’s just one person gone, he reminds himself, and besides, he and Lance don’t see each other all that often anyway. Too busy. Still, Fernando feels like his steps echo up and down the hallways in a way that they haven’t in a long time. Since before the wedding, perhaps. Since before he got used to having someone else around.

Fernando hadn’t intended to wait up for Lance, but he’d also assumed that the man would be back before too long. A few hours past midnight, Lance still hasn’t returned, but this probably doesn't mean anything. Maybe Lance is on a hell of a bender and he’ll find his way downstairs the next morning in even more disarray than usual. The thought makes Fernando smile.

Fernando wakes up the next day and decides to check that Lance had actually made it back, just in case. A bit of paranoia, but that’s how he’s made it this far, hasn’t he? Fernando drifts by Lance’s room, but the door is wide open, revealing– an empty bed, the sheets untouched. Wasn’t even slept in. Ignoring the skip in his heart rate, Fernando pokes his head inside, but he doesn’t see any evidence that Lance had been there.

Maybe he was drunk and passed out downstairs. Fernando can’t pretend like he hasn’t pulled that move before. However, after conducting an extensive sweep of the mansion, Fernando still can’t locate Lance. The questioning text sent to Lance’s phone goes unanswered. Fernando gives it five minutes before giving into his panic and calling him. Three times, it goes unanswered. By the final ring, Fernando is genuinely starting to panic.

Esteban does not sound happy to have Fernando calling him, even though it’s not even that early in the morning, all things considered. “What do you want?”

“Where’s Lance?” Fernando asks, abandoning all pretense.

Esteban sounds confused. “What do you mean?”

Fernando wants to throttle him. “He was out with you last night and he hasn’t come back. Is he with you or not?”

There’s a pause over the line, and when Esteban speaks again, his words are very deliberate. “What are you talking about? Lance was never with me.”

Fernando feels his heart drop. “That makes no sense. Lance told me he was meeting up with you for drinks. Did he never show up?”

“No,” Esteban says, and finally he sounds just as nervous as Fernando feels, “I never texted him at all. It must have been someone else impersonating me.”

Fernando swears. “Who? The Strolls have plenty of enemies, but who would go to the trouble of luring him out of my estate just to take him?”

Esteban is silent for a while, and then he speaks again in a rush of static. “Do you remember the BWT incident?”

Fernando lets out a low breath. “Of course I do. It’s half the reason I considered the Strolls in the first place.”

BWT was a sizable mob family of their own back in the day. Although they’d never been at the forefront like the Spanish, the Chevaux Rouges, or, hell, even the Bulls, they’d been there, and that’s more than most wannabes can say. Then Lawrence Stroll had gone and fucking bought them out. It’s unthinkable. Imagine having the money to purchase an entire black market ring. The Strolls were on the up-and-up, but after that, they solidified their place among the elite. That’s when Fernando had started looking at them in earnest.

“Nice one,” Esteban harrumphes. “Way to appreciate Lance.”

“I do,” Fernando insists, which feels strange. He’s never bothered to defend himself against Esteban’s feckless complaints, but he has the overwhelming need to exonerate himself from this one.

Esteban sighs. “I know Otmar Szafnauer signed the deal to give the Strolls control over BWT, but his right hand man, Sergio Pérez, was furious about it. He never forgave Otmar, and he’s had it out for Lawrence ever since. Everyone else in this goddamn city wouldn’t pick a fight with Lance, especially not so recently after they were all at the wedding, but Pérez wouldn’t care about something like that.”

“He’s probably been biding his time for a while now,” Fernando realizes. “Waiting until he could get back at Lawrence. This was his chance.” He stands up, signaling to one of his servants to rally his men. “Where is he? I need an address.”

Esteban tells him the location of his estate after some searching then hangs up, but not before reminding Fernando to get Lance as soon as possible, a sentiment that Fernando has no problem following. Carlos shows up just in time, the best killers under their employ with them. He starts to ask Fernando what the plan is, but Fernando silences him with a single glance. There is no plan. Fernando’s only want is to get Lance then burn the whole damn place to the ground.

Fernando Alonso is no stranger to killing. This is not the first time he’s gone after a rival. Still, he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted it like this in a very long while. Every bullet in the head of one of Pérez’s guards is one closer to getting Lance back. From the moment Fernando’s cars show up at Pérez’s property, he hopes the man is terrified.

They break down the gate, smash through the double doors, and everything goes to hell. The constant ricochet of bullets is like a drumbeat in Fernando’s ears. He is methodical, tactical, going from room to room. There will be no survivors. Blood starts to coat his shoes, his clothes, but Fernando does not care. 

He’s hardly aware of what he’s doing at all until he breaks into a locked room somewhere in the basement and he finds a figure tied to a chair.

Lance.

The guards don’t stand a chance; they fall before they even get a chance to fire their guns. Fernando races to Lance’s side, undoing the bonds. Lines of dried blood arc across Lance’s face, his arms, and Fernando feels a bout of rage descend upon him, even stronger than when he first found out that Lance had been kidnapped.

“I’ll kill him,” Fernando pledges, “I’ll kill him, and I’ll make it long. He’ll be begging for mercy at the end, but I won’t give it to him. Not when he did this to you.”

Lance reaches up a trembling hand. Fernando catches it at once, pressing it between his two palms. “Fernando?” He asks uncertainly.

“Yes,” he says. “It’s me. You’re alright, Lance. I’m so sorry.”

Lance shakes his head. “Not your fault. I should have seen through it.”

“No,” Fernando insists. “He tricked all of us. I’ll put a bullet in his mouth to stop his lies.”

Lance stands up slowly, unevenly. Fernando catches him, helping him to the door. “I just want to go home,” Lance tells him. “You got your revenge. Let’s just go.”

“Okay,” Fernando says. “Let’s go home.”

On the way out, he passes Carlos, who tells him in terse Spanish that they have Pérez waiting for him. Usually, Fernando would insist on handling the matter himself, but Lance looks up at him and Fernando knows he can’t put this off any longer. He tells Carlos to handle it quickly, then leaves without waiting for an answer.

They get into a car together, Fernando driving and Lance in the passenger seat. The low light from occasional street lights shines on Lance’s face, reflecting the dim planes of his countenance.

Lance catches him looking and smiles softly. “I’m alright, Fernando.”

Fernando still isn’t entirely convinced. “I’ll get a doctor to look at you. I wouldn’t put anything past that coward. And I’ll get more guards on the estate, just in case. Around the clock.”

Lance scoffs. “We don’t need that. He’ll never touch us again. And besides, I know you’ll handle him if he does.”

Fernando is well used to being a source of fear, a reason not to attack. Hearing Lance’s sincere trust in him, though, even after being kidnapped, makes his frantic nerves finally start to settle. “Why would you have such faith in me?” He asks quietly as he parks the car in his garage, sitting in the stillness of the car now that the engine is off.

Lance actually smiles. “Let me prove it to you,” he says, and leans forward to kiss Fernando.

It explains a lot.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ Breathe through it ❞

Touya Todoroki x ftm!reader x Tomura Shigaraki | Taishiro Toyomitsu x ftm!reader x Shota Aizawa| AU, Dabi & Tomura works as a body piercer & tattoo artist | nsfw, smut, p**n with plot | sub. bttm. reader | wc: 4k

warnings: dub. con. (the reader is mostly being a brat), daddy kink, d. penetration (one hole), overstimulation, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick though)

masterlist: pt1; pt2; pt3

They want you without the commitment, so you decide to show them the roster full of people you could choose from.

There's an incessant buzzing on your bed. The screen of your phone lights up with 'Dick for Brains' as the caller ID and you watch as it eventually fades, casually drying off the nape of your neck as the wisps of steam from your bathroom whisper against the small of your back. The screen lights up again. You roll your eyes, reaching down to turn it over. You drop the towel around your waist onto the floor, stepping over the puddle of cloth to open your closet doors. Standing there in all your naked glory, you begin humming as you eye the array of clothing before you. A ruffle of fur brushes your fingers and you fight a scowl as you realize what jacket it was. "Fuck them" you mutter distastefully "Treating me like I'm some goddamn prostitute". You rummage with sudden vigour, reaching for your neglected articles of clothing.

You, out of all people, should know that when it came to fuckboys there's no time to feel regret at their lack of commitment. Most would call you a variation of a fuckboy yourself - though you don't regret being your flirtatious self, ever. You were transparent in your disinterest in a relationship (with someone you weren't attracted to outside of the bedroom). But Dabi and Tomura? They were slutty fucking bastards. Perhaps they knew how well you could fit into their lives, which scared them. It didn't take a genius to know the two of them had a particularly strong case of abandonment issues. Anyone could claim you were being an armchair psychologist but the way they act has you itching to make an appointment with a therapist. Conniving, shitty, man-children. It was one thing to turn your less-than-innocent rendezvous into just...three dudes hanging out (truly, your standards had lowered because why did Dabi and Tomura sharing food with you make your heart race when they've swapped cum in your mouth?). It was another to chase off potential bedmates from you when you three were out in a club — of which prior, you had expressed your annoyance at their want to have you exclusively while they had more flings.

A sheer material flutters by your knuckles. When you pull the garment out it's a beautiful, oversized, button-up shirt. The cutting of the shirt was nothing special, however, the design was breathtaking. Holding it up to the light, you chew on your lower lip with a gleeful twinkle in your eyes. It was see-through though the darker colour of the design was meant to mimic a cinched waist while the outer lavender hue nearly disappeared in the light. You lay it down on your bed, grab your still buzzing phone and reject the call from 'Daddy Issues Central' before calling up your friends. "Well, well, well".

You land on your bed with an 'oomph' stroking the chosen top with a giggle pouring from your lips. "Look who came crawling back, your new boy toys finally bored you?" "Something like that" Your bed creaks as you roll onto your back, touching your lobes as you ponder which piercings to decorate it with. A thrum of musing came from the phone.

"They lasted a while, did they shatter when you left? I need details" they sang and from the sound of movement, you figured they were getting ready as well. "Haven't dropped them" Your sigh makes the sounds halt then a series of 'nonono'. They groaned, "God - (Y/N), don't tell me this is going to be another repeat of Mirai Sasa- whatever the fuck that guy's name was". "He wasn't that bad" you defended. "He quite literally got on his knees and begged for you to 'return back to your rightful future' with him" They shift the phone from their hand to their shoulder and your giggle makes them snort. "Trust me, these guys are not the grovelling type" an idea of a full outfit pops into your head. Raising from the bed, you bounce towards your closet. "Where are you going?" you ask. "Why are you assuming I'm going out?" "It's a Saturday night and you," a grunt leaves your lips as you toss a pair of unworthy shorts over your shoulder, "Just posted something about your boss' son getting the promotion you wanted on your Instagram story". "...Fine, I'm going to the Boy Toy Club in like 25 fucking minutes. You think you can get all dolled up in time, (Y/N)?" Your chuckle makes them roll their eyes fondly. "30 minutes? Pleaseee" "You better be glad I fucking love you". "Who fucking doesn't?" your friend groans and you end the call with a smile. Though it disappears as Dabi's calling you for what feels like the 500th fucking time. "Ugh".

Tomura's seen Dabi irritated before. Despite his cool-headedness, he knows better than anyone that underneath is a simmering beast that bares its teeth at the slightest provocation.

Right now, Dabi's lower jaw is jutted forward and Tomura sees his cheeks being sucked in as he chews on it, brows centred and hooding his eyes with a brewing storm. Tomura doesn't fare any better. He's been scratching at his neck, sighs of displeasure escaping him while he bounces a knee. The store had long closed, the humming of the AC muffling the men's obvious annoyance as it thickens in the air. "You pissed him off" Tomura accuses "He was the perfect fucking lay and your stupid mouth pissed him off!"

"Oh, can it, Shiggy!" Dabi warned, pushing himself off the couch and running his fingers through his hair. "They're other sluts, other 'perfect lays' Just get the fuck up and wear your jacket" Tomura's face scrunches in an incredulous expression as he throws his hands in the air. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" "It means we're going to a club, dick for brains" Dabi has his leather jacket over his shoulders, Tomura's jacket in his hand while the other was holding a box of cigarettes and a lighter. "You're a loser but you're still handsome" Tomura mocks him under his breath, eyes settling into a glare as Dabi holds firmly onto his chin to tilt his head up. Blue eyes flicker to his crotch and Tomura shoves Dabi away with his palm against his navel. "Cock's nice too - there'll be bitches slobbering all over it so come on." He turns to the entrance, lighting the cigarette and shouldering the door open while Tomura bounces the store's keys in one hand and slips the other in the arm of his jacket. "You're drivin' us there, we don't need him".

Dabi's sorely mistaken. Tomura's pressed against his side, cock being pleasured by a hand that's not yours while Dabi's was in a mouth that was, also, not yours. The only thing that was keeping both of them hard was the fact they were shoving each other's tongues down their throats.

"Shit" he hears Tomura hiss, peeking his eyes open to see him push the redhead away from his side. "What the fuck, dude?!" he exclaims. Tomura pants, pulling away from Dabi to stuff his dick back in his pants. "Who the fuck taught you how to give handjobs? A sheet of sandpaper?" Tomura sneered, making Dabi groan as he shoved the guy sucking his dick off, though keeping him drunk on its taste by letting their lips hover by the side with his thigh cushioning his cheek. "Fuck you, I've been jerking you off for 15 minutes — It's not my fault your dicks are broken!" Tomura tells him to fuck off and they do with a string of curses. Dabi taps the one on his lap, earning hazy eyes looking oh-so-sweetly at him. The problem is, they're not that fiery (E/C) colour framed by your pretty lashes and further complimented by your eyebrow shape that Dabi somehow finds attractive. As he looks at the tongue peeking out from lips that aren't yours he clicks his tongue at the lack of metal that's supposed to be there. "Get off" he pushes them onto the floor and Tomura only half-pities them as they yelp, wiping their wet lips and watching as Dabi coldly walks over them and towards the wall of windows. Seeing as Dabi's a regular and one that pays well, he's given privileges. These rooms, with a wall of windows that face each other in a circle and overlook the lower level of the dance floors, were a privilege he'd been given.

Tomura grabs the bottle of champagne and drinks a mouthful. They (Dabi) had been gifted this for free due to his long absence. The pale-haired man pretended not to see Dabi's cheek twitching while he suppressed the bitter taste of regret. The man leaves, scampering almost, and the only sounds left are the muffled bass of the song playing below. Tomura raises to stand next to Dabi who takes the bottle from his hand. "Your dick's still out" he comments. "So?" Tomura observes the clear views of the other VIP rooms around them. He sees bodies, bodies, bodies in all sorts of positions and if the lights weren't constantly shifting or so dim, he was sure they'd be able to lip-read their throes of pleasure.

"...Admit it" Tomura grunts. "You first" Dabi replies. "He put a fucking spell on our dicks" Dabi's eyes roll so far back it threatens to lose those striking blues. "M'not fuckin' joking. That boy sucking your dick was your exact type and you couldn't even get it up if I didn't suck you off first" Dabi turns to Tomura, whose brows are cocked up righteously. "That redhead was your type too, rubbed you fucking raw and for nothing". They stared at each other in silence but Tomura inched closer and soon their kissing. It turns steamier, with his pierced nipples now against the window as Dabi kicks his ankles apart.

This is good, this is great. They're familiar with each other, an unspoken bond stitching their lives together in a way that could never be undone. Both wouldn't say it but only because the words boyfriends didn't quite fit the bill — they were more. They didn't need others. Not in a way that would last. It just complicated things in the long run — so they'd have flings (the other fully knowing) and share their flings but never had trouble falling back into sync. Their sex was great. Their jagged pieces just fit. So Tomura groans and grasps at the smooth glass as Dabi's pierced dick finds a home inside of him. He lets his breath fogs the glass up, arches his back to meet Dabi halfway in his thrusts and kisses Dabi when he feels his breath on his cheek. But his dick only twitches when his red eyes catch the sight of you. You. You were across from them, in the same pose as Tomura was and in the same room but instead of Dabi behind you, it's a blondie with yellow eyes and a considerable size difference to you. He goddamn towers over you and with the way your eyes are squeezed shut he knows his dick is splitting you open just right. Another shadow lurks behind you and this time a guy with long black hair comes to your side, kneeling as he ties his hair into a bun and Tomura's tongue envies his when your eyes shoot open from his mouth. "You're distracted" Dabi gruffs, nibbling at Tomura's ear so he reaches to grab a fistful of Dabi's hair to let his eyes focus on you. His dick twitches inside of him. "Fuck" they moan.

They need you.

"Fuck, you're so fucking big," Taishiro chuckles at your whining which turns into a silent scream as Shota sucks your dick. Taishiro can feel Shota's fingers rubbing on whatever parts of his dick that still isn't sheathed inside of your writhing body. You've always known your body and soul were greedy creatures. A pair of hands weren't enough. You needed more love bites, more bruises; just more moremoremore — As Shota pushes the hood of your dick back to blow his hot breath on it your thighs twitch and Taishiro inches more of him inside of you. This is exactly what you need. These two were ever attentive — courteous despite the less-than-innocent club they were at. The cologne they had smelled expensive, and the watches they wore confirmed it.

You'd hit the jack-pot.

Taishiro and Shota were making you see stars with every flutter of your eyes. The sheer material of your top was now pushed up and bunched by Taishiro's fist as he used it to bring you back towards his hips. "Just like that, baby".

Shota whispers, voice deliciously gravely as he looks at you with his gunmetal grey eyes. It slips out of your moan before you can stop yourself.

"Dabi" Taishiro pauses as he thrusts in while Shota cocks a brow from below you.

"T-Tomura" your eyes are hazy, Shota recognizes it even if you try your hardest to ground back to them. Taishiro pulls out and your knees buckle. His large hands hold you up while Shota stands so you can lean on his chest, gently stroking your hair out of your face as you babble on his shirt.

"Why", you gulp as your thoughts finally slither between your ears. Peeking up at Shota you frown, then turn to look at Taishiro whose offering you a glass of cold water. "Why'd you stop?" Shota presses the rim of the glass to your lips and you petulantly gulp it down. Your legs were still shaky so Taishiro effortlessly picks you up so you could sit on the seats instead.

Between that and here, mortification runs down your spine like ice. You curse, hiding your face in your hands as you curl in on yourself.

"Fuck, I'm really — I'm really sorry, guys" Taishiro rubs your shoulder, his sunny smile making guilt swallow you whole. This was a guy that would actually take care of you. Not lead you on with false expectations or monopolize you.

"Don't sweat it," Shota says as he wipes his mouth with the napkins in the room. Look at him, so reliable. So...responsible. Those broad shoulders were more than just for show.

These two would've made every worry you had to fade off. Probably spoil you rotten — but you don't feel anything with them.

You craved sweltering heat, the taste of metal in your mouth and on your skin - calloused, inked, hands and red-rimmed eyes staring you down.

You craved for those assholes.

"Exes?" Taishiro asks as you huff and try to calm your racing heart. "No, I guess? I dunno!" He offers you a grimace and fixes the wrinkles on your shirt while Shota gives you another glass of cold water.

"I really am sorry" Taishiro assures you but the knock on the door makes all three of your heads turn. Shota wonders if either of you had ordered another bottle of champagne but the dubious looks in everyone's eyes make him stand to open the door — he was the only one still fully clothed after all.

"Can I help you?" You're squeezing into your pants when Tomura's voice echoes.

"(Y/N), is he here? Just need to...talk to him" Shota's grey eyes ask you a silent question but you nod and stand so he opens the door wider.

Dabi's leaning on the wall across the door. Moody, disgruntled and cock so hard the tent in his pants casts a shadow on the leather. His arms are crossed over his chest, his biceps on display.

Tomura's half-dressed. Their shirt falls off one shoulder as his low-waisted jeans unabashedly show the happy trail he has. His messy hair is somehow even messier, his red eyes hungry.

"...Hey, baby" you could almost cringe at Tomura's words. You offer Taishiro a kiss on his cheek along with Shota as a way to ease them and thank them for your failed rendezvous.

The act has Dabi and Tomura's brow twitch.

The door closes behind you, The three of you stand in the hallway — tense.

A guy stumbles on the three of you, the drunken giggles die as he eyes you before he bursts into another fit as he stumbles past. Embarrassment dust on your face and you sigh, scratching the back of your neck in irritation. "What the hell do you want?" Tomura replies; "Those two made you cum pretty fast, huh? Or did they even manage to?"

His eyes widen as you snarl in his face, looking equally as handsome as you were scary. "Ugh! Why do I even give you two the opportunity to try and be anything but a dick!" taken aback, Tomura blinks as you shove him back before turning on your heels to stomp away.

Dabi grips your wrist and your yell gets swallowed by his lips. Tomura watches as he wrestles you to the wall, cushioning the slam with his body as he grabs onto your wrists to keep them from smacking Dabi.

"You — Mphf! Motherfuckers!" you mumble between the kissing, breath hitching as Tomura's lips trace your neck. Your hips buck between theirs and since Dabi's are free he grips your waist and spreads your ankles apart to put his knee right between your legs. The friction it creates has your heart racing all over again.

"Tomura" you whisper, head tilted back to let his pierced tongue in your mouth. You squeeze your eyes closed, hoping to push away that whisper of floating off to pleasure so you could at least show them that you weren't easy.

But all that resolve disappears when Tomura's hands sneak to unbutton your pants and Dabi's unzipping them. Their inked hands working in tandem, like a well-oiled fuck machine intent on making you lose all your senses in the goddamn hallway of a gay club.

"Daddy's got ya'" Dabi groans as he feels your wetness drip on his fingers. "Ain't that right, Shiggy?" Tomura mumbles that Dabi's daddy kink is dumb but unbuttons your shirt next.

"Yeah, yeah, daddy's got you, baby" Tomura plays along anyways. You would scoff in his face at his denial that he was totally into the kink himself but he's tweaking your nipples between his fingers and you're feeling your eyes roll back as your back arches away from Tomura but into Dabi.

He's between feeling impressed and annoyed at how easy you take three of his fingers. You can see it in the way he licks his teeth —

"Taishiro...fuck, his dick is so big, Daddy". It makes Dabi's eyes shine brightly under the dim lights. He's staring at you from his furrowed brows and Tomura grumbles as his magenta eyes glow in jealousy.

No — not jealousy. Envy?

Not quite, you think (how you manage to do that surprises even yourself) but something more primal.

Dabi slips another finger in and you sigh, breath hitching as Tomura's pierced tongue trails spit down your neck.

"Left me gaping, Shota made me so fuckin' wet too — He's so fuckin' good with his tongue".

Dabi is quiet "Couldn't fit him all the way but Shota helped - Ah, oh fuck, Daddy" Tomura's cupping your chest in his hands and grinding his hard-on on your ass.

"They felt so good" you groan.

When Tomura clicks his tongue and switches you around to face him you finally put a word on the emotions in their eyes.

Possessiveness.

"Yeah? They felt good, baby?" Tomura is forcing your jaw open with his hand and Dabi is pulling your pants down. Drool is slipping past your smudged lips and Tomura thinks you look like some sort of modern art piece.

A modern day Achilles or something.

"They did such a good job making this cunt ready for us, Daddy," Dabi says to Tomura as he pulls out his cock, leaning down to grab your leg and lifting it to the side, and thrusts his hip forward which makes yours jerk forward.

Glistening cunt twitching and inviting.

"Both of us could fit no trouble," Your eyes widen at the very idea but before you could speak Dabi's filling you up and all you manage is a whorish yelp.

Tomura watches as Dabi unbuttons his pants, moaning out his name as he strokes his hard cock then adjusts his stance as Dabi lines up his dick to your sopping cunt.

"Rub his dick a little," Dabi chuckles but complies as he rubs Tomura's cockhead to your dick which makes you shudder.

When Tomura does slip in, tears prick your eyes. Dabi shushes you as you whine and try to move your hips away. He rubs your swollen dick while Tomura licks your tears away.

"Don't hold your breath" he grunts. "Breathe through it, yeah, that's it — S'fucking beautiful".

The pressure of them inside you has your thighs twitching.

Anyone could walk in on you. Could just see you taking their dicks like some sort of sex toy with diamond tears running down your cheeks just like the slick running between your thighs.

"Feel us here, (Y/N)?" Tomura asks as he presses on your navel but you're too gone to respond. Your eyes are blanketed with nothing but pleasure and sin leaking from them.

"Daddy" Dabi calls out, hips shifting. He's calling for Tomura, calling him daddy as he tells him to set the pace.

Footsteps briefly register in your head, and a few startled gasps come from the group of men that walked in. They speak, laugh, probably leer even but you're just angry that their cocks make you feel this fucking good.

Taishiro had made you feel good — his dick was huge.

Shota's tongue and fingers that worked you open for Taishiro had made you nearly rip his hair from his scalp.

But Dabi and Tomura?

"Fuck!" you moan as Dabi thrusts into you. He's talking to the group of men walking past, panting through his words but that asshole has the gall to act as if he wasn't fucking you within an inch of your life.

Why was that so hot?

As Tomura's dick slides in, Dabi's pulls out - a steady but harsh rhythm that has your cunt fluttering and your brain fogging even more.

The men walk past, laughing as they give you a last glance. Somehow, their thrusting gets harsher as Dabi lifts you off your feet while Tomura spits on your cunt and rubs circles on your dick.

"Cuh-Cummin'! M'cumming! I'm - Ah! Shit! Shitshitshit" Tomura muffles your cries by kissing you, sucking on your tongue while Dabi's thighs tense as he shoots thick ropes of cum inside of you. Tomura is not far behind, the patch of pubic hair flushed against you as he catches his breath.

They carried you from the hallway. Your ragged breathing was the only thing being shared safe from a few murmurs of 'you alright?' the few seconds after they came.

You're in their private room now, sweat making your clothes absolutely disgusting against your skin. Thankfully, Dabi's there to strip you and Tomura's naked body is between your legs just as he's done.

"Wha —" you throw your head back as Tomura's mouth is licking the globs of cum escaping your abused cunt, squealing as he teases your asshole with his tongue. "Daddy!' Tomura hums, barely paying attention as he makes sure to erase any trace of that Shota-whatever the fuck his name is - from his hole.

"Daddy!" Dabi answers this time, somehow always knowing who you're actually calling just from the way you whine so there's no confusion.

"He's makin' you feel good?"

"Too muchhh" You try to push Tomura's head away but Dabi shushes you and holds your wrist to pin them on his naked thigh and makes you grasp onto his pierced dick.

"Our good boy can take it — If his daddies say he can, he can, right?" You sob but merely squeeze your eyes as Tomura's tongue piercing teases your dick.

"Missed our baby so much" Tomura pants out, licking his lips as he stares at your winking hole.

"Mhm, never gonna let him go...he's all ours now". Your fiery (E/C) eyes look up at Dabi so sweetly as he speaks despite how your sinful hand is teasing his cockhead like a true professional.

"All yours? Promi — Fuccck" Dabi chuckles as Tomura meanly sucks on your dick but nods, leaning down to kiss you.

"Promise, baby." He reaches to interlace his fingers with Tomura with one hand while Tomura does the same with your empty hand.

"All ours baby".

The sensor going off tells you that you should get off of Dabi's lap and greet the customer but he tightens his grip which makes you roll your eyes.

"Shiggy!" he's in the break room but responds with a 'I got it!'

He peeks in the room as he passes by, shaking his head at the sight of your boyfriend, Dabi, sketching on his iPad with you in his lap. "He's making a tattoo design for us" you muse as you reach for your boyfriend, Tomura, to plant a kiss on his lips.

"He sucks at that — I can do it better" and although it is true, the evidence quite literally on Dabi's skin, Dabi scoffs haughtily.

"Shut the fuck up and see who walked in" Tomura does so but not without an eye-roll.

He greets the customers but freezes as his eyes land on their figures.

Taishiro and Shota's eyes widen as well.

"Oh," Taishiro says. The sound of giggles comes from the hallway and suddenly Dabi and you are spilling into the room as well.

Taishiro and Shota couldn't hide the way their eyes look you over as they drink you in. They couldn't forget about you — they could hear every moan and squelch from your impromptu fucking in the hallway right in front of the door of their room.

All five of you shuffle a bit, cheeks warm.

Dabi chuckles and everyone's eyes are on him.

"We could flip the Open sign to Close and get to know each other better" he purred and you squeeze your thighs together as all eyes land on you.

Oh fuck.

[adobe-outdesign]

Best toy neopets?

Toy is a newer colour, having been released in 2018 as the runner up of a "new colour" poll (so no UC/styled art to compare in this one). The original toy pet used in the poll, Lenny, seemed to be a good example of what to expect from the colour: plastic parts, bright colors, and maybe one or two minor changes to the anatomy where appropriate.

However, while some toy pets stick to the action-figure formula to varying degrees, some go off in completely different directions by being based on random specific real-world toys. On top of that, some of those pets are based on very specific brands (the iDog, Furbies, etc.) while some are just based on generic classic toy concepts.

This can also lead to problems regarding overlap with other colours; the toy Kougra, Lupe, and Bruce are all effectively just plushie Neopets, albeit in a very different style than the standard plushie colour.

I point this out because I feel like either a colour should be 100% coherent across all species, or it should vary wildly by species. Toy straddles this weird middle ground of being part licensed toys, part generic toys, and part action-figure toys where it simultaneously has coherency and no coherency at all. I feel like the best toy pets are the ones where they stick to the plastic-y look but manage to put a fun species-specific twist on it.

Favorite Species:

Mynci: Speaking of which, the toy Mynci is basically perfect in this respect; it keeps the hard jointed plastic look while also being based off the classic cymbal-playing monkey toy, which fits the 'pet for obvious reasons. The colors also look quite nice, and as an added bonus, the clothes are removable (though I do wish the base removed the out-of-place head hairs).

Gnorbu: This one falls into the "generic IRL toy" category, and while it's not the most coherent thing in terms of the overall colour (I'm hesitant to even think of a piñata as a toy), it's such a fun concept and it looks great. There's a lot of colors used but they're all balanced well, the concept reads super clearly, and the subtle inegration of thigns like the mane are just perfect. My sole nitpick is just that the black outlines on the eye look out of place, and something flatter to match the papier-mâché look would've been nice.

Jetsam: Based off a pool toy, this one kind of plays with the action-figure concept by keeping the plastic idea but not being hard plastic or jointed. It's perfect for a water-based Neopet, and the inflatable plastic is spot-on visually, complete with seams. Only issue with it is the weird handle on the side, which might be a thing with shark pool toys but isn't something I've ever seen in-person.

BONUS: The toy Bori takes a similar route to the Mynci, keeping the hard plastic idea but putting a twist on it by making the back plates into an xylophone, which is a fantastic concept. The multi-colored plates really draw attention to the concept and the rest the palette is a simple yellow with a few blue accents.

The only issue with it, and the reason it's a bonus, is that weird bone in its mouth. According to Jellyneo, it's based off a [checks notes] Toddlerz Toddlin' Tunes Puppy, which is just weird because Bori aren't dogs or even dog-adjacent. What was wrong with just making it a regular non-branded xylophone?

Least Favorite Species:

Koi: I absolutely love the idea of this being a bathtub wind-up toy; however, the problem is that the key, which should be the focal point, is so tiny and hard to see that I only noticed while doing this review that it's even there. Even putting that aside, there's way too many colors going on here, and the addition of stripes over the body is strange and does nothing but clutter the design. It's also strange that the back fin is a solid color and one piece while the tail is lobed and multi-colored; feels like those two should match.

[reversemoon255]

Soul of Chogokin GX-113 Gundam Tryon 3

Considering Gundam Build Fighters Try isn't to most popular season of its subline, it's very easy to argue that Tryon 3 is the most popular aspect of that season... except maybe Fumina. Anyway, the Mobile Suits of GBFT were very Super Robot in performance and combat, but Tryon 3 took that to the next step by also referencing them with its aesthetics. Tryon 3 was also easily recognizable as being based off the ZZ Gundam, while most other Gunpla had more original designs which was a common complaint among fans at the time. But despite its popularity, it has only had ever gotten that original kit and a few hard-to-get color and plastic variants, so to have its second iteration be the full-on high-end Super Robot treatment is a welcome surprise.

The Good: While I've heard a ton of good things about the line, this is my first foray into SoC. As the name suggests, there are a lot of metal parts throughout, primarily in the legs but quite a bit is used to reinforce joints. As such, it is very heavy and very solid. It also has a good range of posability, though gentle pressure should be applied when moving the tougher metal joints.

As with the original, Tryon 3 is capable of splitting into Riku Tryon, Sora Tryon, and Umi Tryon. They all carry over the posability they grant to Tryon 3, with Riku Tryon having decently posable legs in addition. The transformation is also very fun, with no parts forming like with the original. Riku Tryon's head is on a dual armature that swings over the chest, Umi Tryon's head fits snugly into the chest cavity, and Sora Tryon's legs completely invert on a set of sliding rails to become the standard Gundam legs. It's all very impressive, and not at all complicated, which speaks wonders to its engineering. It even has added places to store the Sora head and Umi tail which become its sword, and the wings which are usually discarded.

I'll also say, when combined, it feels like the size they portray it as in the show, closer to 1/100 scale than 1/144. Despite a lot of HG kits declaring they're 1/144 scale, that doesn't always match up in practice, with kits like those from Wing or units like Mobile Doll Sarah or May being bigger than they should be, or in this case HG Tryon 3 feeling small, though its size did sometimes feel like it was on a slider.

Apart from a bevy of alternate hands, Tryon 3 does comes with a number of bonus parts, most of which are beam effects. It comes with an enlarged head crest to wield for its iconic Boomerang Stagger, beam effects for both its Hyper Beam Sabers and an over-foot-long one for Hyper Minovsky Chohoken, and propulsion effects with stand capability for Armed Booster. It also comes with a set of two parts so you can depict it pulling Chohoken from the Liger's mouth, with the beam piece alone doubling as a Choho Pressure effect piece.

The included stand is also nice. While it doesn't have undercarriage storage, like with a lot of The Gattai toys, it does try to remain very pristine in appearance. You can separate it into three parts to display the three individual units separately, remove the name plate, and all the armatures you can attach hook onto the existing Riku and Umi plugs, or a cleverly hidden hole in the center of the stand.

The Bad: There's some general tightness and fragility to worry about, though it points out most instances in the instructions. The sword is also quite heavy to the point that it recommends you use one of the armatures to prop it up, though you have to do so with the unreliable clamp arms. I do wish there was some way to plug the stand into the sword if they knew this was going to be a thing. The first time I attached the V-Fin I was worried something was going to snap, though nothing thankfully did.

The biggest issue I had was the hands. They're slightly rubberized, and very tight, so they took quite a bit of force to put on the wrists for the first time. I ended up taking the arms off by the elbow to get the leverage I needed to put them on. They get slightly easier the more you do it, but they always require a bit more force than I'd like.

Look, this is a very high-end, high-spec piece. While I have heard of a few fumbles in SoC's past, this seems like a release where they did their homework. It probably helps that it's not trying to do anything too crazy, apart from the leg inversion? Treat it like what it's worth and you will see no trouble; time, patience, and a gentle hand.

Overall, it's great, but expensive. You're definitely getting your money's worth, but the question is if you want to spend that money in the first place. But now I'm kinda sad that this is a solo piece; unlike a lot of Super Robots, Tryon 3 is standalone and doesn't have combo buddies. Except... SD Tryon 3 does have Luna Tryon.

[bottomhyunjinbuffet]

Dessert Of the Day

╰┈➤ Pairings: Sub!Hyunjin x Top! Felix

╰┈➤ Summary: Hyunjin was hungry but didn't finish his food that Felix brought to be a brat, but Felix wasn't taking it

╰┈➤ Tags: Food play, overstimulation

╰┈➤ AU; This was rushed and out there, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless and if not I will redo it all just to make sure it fits the menu standards and for everyone else to enjoy!

"Felix! I'll finish it just please! Fuck!" Hyunjin whimpered, trying to get out of the cuffs that had him stuck, his hands being cuffed to the headboard, but they were the metal ones, the fuzzy ones for his soft tender hands. His bare chest rising and failing with whipped cream and strawberries even shaking with each quick breath he took, practically shaking while his legs were forced to be open while his cock was being tortured.

Felix squeezing the tip repeatedly while using hyunjin's favorite vibrator to mess with him. But another one in his ass just to get the maximum effect. Watching Hyunjin through his hair, he could see him trying to keep his eyes opened, but they were constantly rolling into the back of his head. The sweat constantly dripping down from his face to the bed, Felix knew they would have to change the sheets, but it would all be worth it.

Slowly tilting his head to the side, Felix hummed in delight at the delicious show in front of him. A whimpering, squirming hyunjin just begging to release, something he rarely ever heard but enjoyed nonetheless. How often do you hear hyungjin begging for something like his life is completely dependent on this one simply action? Rarely unless you know how to pull the strings to even get him remotely close to it.

"Hm... Maybe. I like the sounds though, reminds me of how drippy caramel is, don't you agree?" Hyunjin quickly nodded his head, his toes curling like his dull nails were digging into the palm of his sweat hands, most likely even leaving marks at the scene of it, but it was a beautiful sight nonetheless. "Besides, I can't let this all go to waste now, I'd be so sad." With a fake pout, Felix leaned over, slowly licking the whipped cream off the spots he placed them on, eating the strawberries slowly while enjoying the sight of tears.

The toys were out, tossed to side of the bed ti rest for a while. Leaving a poor, tired and huffing hyunjin on the bed, trying to calm down with his shaking legs spread out, his eyes trying to scan his surroundings again, staring up at a smiling Felix, who slowly let his hands free from the cuffs.

"Looks like you'll be finishing your food from now on, hm?" Felix sat next to the tired hyunjin, watching him trying tog et his breathing back on track and move in his own sweat, twitching and shaking from his three releases and knew he couldn't take anymore. If he tried he was gonna lose his mind or maybe even just pass out.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you, I got the best bath ready since maybe, Chan should be home and I can change the sheets." Hyunjin only let out a whimper while felix stood up, peaking out of the room to see a confused Chan slowly walking up the stairs with his duffle bag. "Let me guess, I'm on bath duty again?" "You know me so well dear."

[seecarrun]

There’s a lot of commentary going on out there about men and boys and masculinity and acceptance, etc etc, and I’m not an expert is any of that, but one thing I do have insight in, as a kindergarten teacher and mom to a toddler boy is that that we NEED to be better about how we are raising our boys.

By the time the kids get to me in kindergarten, usually aged five, sometimes 6, the different behavior in boys and girls is immense. It’s not 100% every student obviously, but more often than not, a majority of my girls have no problem listening, following directions, respecting their peers, using their words, and striving to do well.

The boys? Not so much. The majority of my boy students come in and talk over everyone, don’t follow directions, choose to fight or yell or tattle immediately if there is any conflict, they are the ones breaking down into tears if they don’t get called on, and throwing tantrums if we do an activity they don’t want to do.

These kids are FIVE. What is happening in these five years that are causing this??

Well, I have a two year old now. “Boys will be boys” is rampant when it comes to parents.

Billy broke a vase? Boys will be boys.

Billy isn’t listening to the story? Boys will be boys.

Billy is throwing a fit because he got in trouble? Boys will be boys.

Billy is yelling and running screaming through the house? Boys will be boys.

It goes on and on. And that is IF! IF parents are taking their boys to play dates or classes or play grounds or daycares and introducing them to other kids. My son is in the most amazing little music class where they sing and play instruments and dance, and his class is overwhelmingly little girls. Every single time.

We need to give boys more credit. They are capable of being kind and caring and emotionally intelligent. They can be soft and sweet and love butterflies and flowers and dancing. They can listen and clean up their toys and be flexible and sensitive, AND they can play in the dirt and love trucks and think farts are hilarious. Little boys can be held to the same standards as little girls, and still be little boys. The two are NOT mutually exclusive.

Treat little boys like they can be great, and maybe, juuust maybe, they’ll start rising to the expectation.

[trashbins-stuff]

my 2024 art summary..

i was suppsoed to do it earlier today but i forgor and i dont ave my fone rn so i downloaded my art from toyhouse and edit them in whitebaord fox lolzz

me talking abt myart and why i chose these piece specifically vvv

january: okay i actuakly drew the piece/upload it on the VERY FIRST DAY OF 2024 aka 1/1, i..dont evne owed the ocs anymore </3 #regrettbh bakc then i stiluse one of my favourtie ibis defualt brush that i ALWAYS uses bc i didnt know alot abt other brushes back then, i honestly kinda proud of this one bc it was a scene art and i was ahving fun abck the, this piece was me trying to imitate the hfjone art style

february: i rlly like pink lols...i rlly love this oc heosntly lowkey kidna regreted not keeping him, i chose this because comapring to the january one it has more to it, this was me experimenting with stuff such as background, 2 lines on their limbs to indicate paws, i wasnt a pro persay bt i was trying and it was amazing! the effort and stuff :)

march: i got into oc trading and stuff bc my bf sprout introduced me to it, tand i always make sure i draw every oc i get form toehr ppl at least once like it was on top of my priorities, i rlly love this oc and sprout did too,i let him offer and it have been a while...shes been in my pending folder for 9 months what @moonsprout-sys KRKRKKRKR hurry your ass up/silly, anywya i picked this bc i started to draw more complex oc from the on it was like a trebuche that shoot me two complex ocs department

april: unlike the other three, this one is drew on a different brush (and unlike the other two, its GREEB), this was me experienmenting with brushes and other thing si could do with ym art! i rlly rlly love tht brush lol i use dit for almsot everyart, sorry fur da toyhouse watermakr btw oop, another thing u will notice abt is thai used the white line effect which is sooo cool yall

may: i picked this to show yall how abd but also different how i coloured back then, i didnt rlly have a direciton i just pick a colour and select random shade, like how most of the oc is in different shade of greeb wit some blue and purple, cuz my thought wa slike oooh greeeb ooohhh simialr to blue ooohh similar to ourple, like even the glove is jsut black blue lmaooo

june: diversityy, i sitll have no idea abt anything abt colouring but yk, i pciekd this bc it fits into the template

july: woahie JULY, OH-KAY, so i was kinda improving ont eh colouring here, like at least the greeb and black combo is okay, hot pink bc yes, orange bow, the rianbow woodnt look good on it own but it skind of fit with the shad eof the ronage bowm, my designing skill have improved too!! did u see what i did with the rianbow sock and tail>>?? cool right>?? well fang u :)))) i ver prou

august: aside form colouring i start toe xperiemient with LIGHTNING bc i LOVE LIGHTNING IN OTHE RPPL ART SM LIKE OMZ THATS SICK HOW DID U DO THAT and i started to look up totorutial! i was rlly proud of this peice abck then, its simple, but it was my first experienment and it was MINE that was ME like..I DREW THAT oughhh <3333

september: the abckgorund have return atfe rlike what...the past...seven months oop, as u can see..iveimporoved ;3333 the flower was kinda eh but i neevr got over how i made xer ear lokwye relaistic af..liek every else look like 2017 furry art/j but i totally nailed the ear

october: i rmemeber my qpp oscar said that this piece is rlly nice to loom at :DD i also used october to toy aorund with ym art style, expically the backgournd and such, i, too, am podu of this one

november: art for my friend lye! probably my best efforted peice of like the whole month, drew it while i was waiting for my friend yeon to finish praticing forour naitonal teachers day ceremony, it loo very ncie and cool and u should be proud of it

december: my friend tessa said this look like femtanyl and i forgor how tot ake ana ctaulyl compliment, why should i lower my standard why my friend could say tawesomthign slike this omfg best compliment ive ever received ever>??? love u tess :)