#bina.

[medullam]

BINA. - Do Not Disturb, ph. Udochukwu [London,2022]

[joyoons]

★ , bina / ryota dijo : ¿te vas a quedar ahí parado toda la noche sin hacer nada?

' ¿qué se supone que debería estar haciendo ahora mismo? ' aunque propia cuestión pudo resultar a la defensiva, estuvo demasiado lejano a serlo. fue un bostezo lo que dejó salir en consecuencia, ladeando el rostro para mirarle con una sonrisilla fugaz. ' dímelo y tal vez me una a ti si resulta interesante ~ ' eso, a fin de cuentas, era lo único que la movía; el encontrar algo lo suficientemente llamativo para capturar su interés, fallando generalmente en el proceso. después de todo, tras más de un siglo existiendo, toda situación le resultaba aburrida. * @binnas / @hi0ta

[skirino]

Bina se ha lastimado con una de las trampas y Kirino es la única persona presente. 

' ¿qué es eso que estoy viendo? ¿alguien ha metido los dedos donde no le han llamado? ' burla entre risas suavecitas, acercándose para examinar de cerca la herida aunque con ambas manos por detrás. ' tenías un sólo trabajo, bina. uno solo. ¿o será que... la trapa ha pensado que eres una ratoncita? ' los hombros se le sacuden como producto de su propio humor. ¡era tan ocurrente! ' bueno, ya, ¿quieres ayuda? sólo será un módico precio. '

[binart]

20 bii-bohs: 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍🧍‍♂️🧍🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️🧍🧍🧍‍♂️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍🧍‍♂️🧍‍♀️🧍🧍 hello may we have some of your hair

[miraenith]

little collab with my bestie @katastrak LMFAO

they are best friends i will not elaborate

[zegalba]

Bina Baitel: Pull Over (2008)

[opashoo]

You guys remember Bina? She remembers you

[arachine]

u asked so I shall deliver :3

but imagine whiny n fucked out Dave Lizewski omfffhhhgggggg, his hair is a mess n his glasses are falling off, they're all dirty too bc he's handsy! Ik he is! and he tries to grab anything he can on u but u just tut him and tell him to keep his hands to himself, so nowwww he's whining even more, he's begging too atp, all glossy eyes and jutted out lips. I KNOW he's a pretty crier, so why shouldn't u mess with him a lil yk?

moral of the story, Dave. Just Dave.

nghhhhh rina i’m gonna scream SO loud.

warnings: unprotected sex, dacryphilia (i think? cba to check if i included it), whiny dave (like down bad, pussydrunk dave) + so rushed i’m sorry but i need to fr study lol :3

can just imagine him begging to touch you. at first, he tries to bargain with you. asks if he can just ‘hold your hips for a bit’, so you don’t ‘fall off’—as he puts it. but you’re ruthless. all bite and no bark.

“good boys keep their hands to themselves,” you tsk, swatting away his wandering appendage. the admonishment forces a whine from his throat, and he retracts his hand quickly like a child scolded for getting into the cookie jar. “don’t you wanna be a good boy for me, baby?”

“yes—fuck—god, yes. j’st let me touch you, let me h-hold you,” he pleads, and it’s so cute. the knot between his brows, the erythro in his cheeks—the crystalline droplets cascading down his face. it doesn’t take much persuasion to get you to acquiesce; not when he’s beneath you like this. looking up at you like you just hung the stars in the sky. “ok, go ahead, baby. touch me.”

and as soon as you give him the okay, he’s flipping you over onto your back, all muscles and eagerness. grabs the weight of his cock and bullies it into your little hole, unconcerned by your protests and light-hearted pleas for him to slow down.

“easy, ‘m not going anywhere,” you giggle, but it falls on deaf ears because he’s concentrated. focused—on one thing and one thing only—or maybe two things—or a few things: your skin, the rivulets of sweat between your breasts, your eyes—the perfect little ‘o’ shape your mouth makes when he hits that spot just right. yeah, he’s focused.

“babybabybaby, i’m close,” he says in your ear, a mixture of a whine and cry, “please, lemme do it inside. can i? i’ll get you the pill, swear i will, s-swear it!”

and at the nod of your approval, he’s pistoning into you like a rabid thing. all mumbles and whimpers, expletives and grunts. telling you how sweet you are to him, and how lucky he is to have a girlfriend who let’s him finish inside her.

says he’ll, “never fuck another girl again,” while the weight of his hand rests firmly against your jaw, and his lithe fingers maneuver your head to meet his lips. and you know he’s telling the truth—because his eyes are all hazy and glossy. they get like that when he’s close; and they got like that when he declared his love for you some time ago. a tell-tale sign.

“so close, baby. use me, you can do it,” you caress his cheek, clenching once, twice, three times around him in an effort to get him to finish. and it works. he manages a few more lazy thrusts before he’s plopping down onto you with a strangled moan and a sigh.

“about that pill…” he starts, “i only have $10 in my account. don’t think we’re ready to be parents.”

gasping, you raise a hand to yank him back by the hair, “lizewski, get off of me right now.” the brunet chuckles but it only coaxes you to pull tighter at the scalp.

“ow, okay, okay. i was just kidding,” he admits, grabbing at the hand holding his hair by the root, “let me go and i’ll go pick it up.”

“alright, go,” you release him, “but seriously, get off of me. you’re heavy.”

© arachine 2023

[fatuismooches]

Sobbing rn I just got hit with the cutest hurt/comfort idea for fragile!reader and Dottore

(The hurt in this instance is just fragile!reader's self deprecating inner monologue 😭)

What if reader was the sort who fussed over their appearance a lot? In the Akademiya they wouldn't be caught dead with dark circles under their eyes or having their hair messy.

Even if they did pull all nighters for a project, they always found time to put just a little bit of make-up on to lighten up their eyebags, and always had a simple yet neat hairstyle in mind in times they're in a rush.

They might be perishing from all the studies and assignments but they're going to look good doing it!

This made Reader and Zandik an even odder pair in the Akademiya. Reader who is always neat and in style, versus Zandik who just spent the whole night taking apart a ruin guard somewhere in Avidya Forest until the sun rose and he showed up as is.

That was one of the features Zandik found 'annoying' about Reader before they got together. Like - ugh they're so bubbly and energetic! They're running around everywhere and they're so chatty! Them with their— nice hair! And— pretty eyes, and those robes that actually fit them as if they were tailored! How pretentious of them— (he was down bad. Bro was coping with anger to bat away the feels)

But of course, that was all in the past. In the present, Reader can't take care of their appearance anymore. They couldn't even pick up a hairbrush, their joints ached horribly, they don't have the strength to hold something so light, they don't have the energy to do the basic care of untangling the strands of hair either.

They can't stand looking at their own reflection. That sense of 'wrongness' they couldn't fix, what they couldn't hide. How desperately they wanted to put just a little bit of blush at least, to give their skin some life with how sickeningly pale it was, no longer warm and saturated as it used to be.

They can't look at their eyes either. The greying, sagging bags beneath their lids was a taunt. No amount of sleep would get rid of them.

They can't wear outfits that were too elaborate. Their temperature fluctuated too much, a deathly cold beneath their skin, then a sudden spike in heat as if they were being scorched by the desert sun. They have to wear basic garments, comfortable without hindering layers to slow down their daily check-ups.

Reader is thankful for the segments caring for them, they really are. A segment brushing their hair while talking to them is a highlight of their day.

But... it wasn't the same.

Of course it wouldn't be, the segments were carers, nor stylists.

Still, the fact that they had no control over their appearance and presentation had their mental state withering.

Dottore noticed this. How withdrawn his dear had become. They had their days of silence, yes... but this was more sombre than usual.

He concludes that their illness was flaring up again, and that they were masking their pain instead of consulting with him. He comes to their room of course, his current duties be damned (not that he could've been productive even if he had wanted to, the Segments were restless and shrinking away from their tasks, their darling's current disposition bothered them.)

Opening the door slightly to enter, he sees them blankly staring at their reflection, prodding a finger on their prominent eyebags, rubbing their cheek to see if it would redden.

Ah... how could he had forgotten that. They were once very particular of how they looked. He should have known this possibility, witnessing their own sickly reflection would be distressing...

[The Crow visits a certain Dove. Despite how stiff and vague the Doctor had been with his words, the Damsalette only tittered in understanding, and imparted the knowledge he was seeking.]

The next day, Reader is sat on their vanity, waiting for a Segment to tend to them (always with a little bit of struggle to walk in the morning, but it's the least they could do to be less of an inconvenience already.)

The minutes tick by... he's late. Did something happen?

More time goes by, and they become more worried. They were about to get up and search before the door creaks open.

Zandik...? And he's carrying a... why does he have a bag?

They have plenty of questions. Why the late arrival? What was in the bag? Why was Zandik himself here?

Before they could ask all of this, however, he sets the small bag down on the vanity. He riffles through it... are those make-up brushes?

Wait, make-up?

The next half-hour was spent in stunned silence for Reader's part, Zandik was silent as well out of careful concentration. Gently applying everything, his touch on the brush strokes and blending soft... applying gloss on their lips.

Once Zandik moves on to their hair, they finally catch a glimpse of their reflection. Their cheeks were rosey, the dark circles under their eyes concealed, their lips no longer appearing dry, and instead plump and shimmering.

Oh.

... they almost looked like the way they were before their illness.

Almost.

But it was enough.

(Reader tries so hard not to cry. Fighting back tears, not wanting to ruin the make-up Zandik so diligently applied. Once Zandik was finished with their hair... they may have hiccuped a little bit.)

They may no longer have that upbeat energy they once boasted... but it was comforting to see their old reflection once again. It had been far too long.

You know, I really love this ask because my whole life I've pretty much never used make-up even though I want to so having Dottie do it for me heals me a bit. Also, I'm not very knowledgeable on it so apologies if anything is wrong. Okay, I'm done. 🤏

In all honesty, Dottore was never one to care much for outward looks but he has to admit that you still always manage to look good despite all of the work from school plus all of the work you help with for his experiments, plus... literally everything life throws at you. Yet you still bounce back like it was nothing. The scholar still had not discovered your secret to this yet despite observing you for so long, which furthered his interest in you even though he didn't admit it.

Zandik did maintain his appearance, to an extent of course as he didn't go out of his way to look great, but nothing compared to the effort you put in. So while he did look presentable most of the time, there have been quite a few times you made him late to class because there was no way you were going to let him out looking like that. You don't regret it, even when you get weird looks from the other students. Being 'odd' with your equally as odd lover was nothing to worry about, in your humble opinion.

Although Zandik couldn't hope to understand your strange nature, always mumbling under his breath about you while you laughed at his comments, he also couldn't help but enjoy being around you. You kept him on his toes (your words, not his.)

Unfortunately, this nature and style of yours gradually dissipated into nothing when your illness struck. At first, you refused to accept it, pushing yourself to do what you usually did but soon enough you realized that it simply wasn't going to work out. You had all these tools and resources and options in front of you but you couldn't use them anymore. The self-consciousness only grew more and more each day as you struggled to see yourself as beautiful - struggled to see yourself as a person Dottore would find beautiful.

Of course, your gratitude to the segments couldn't be properly expressed or put into words. You quite literally wouldn't be here without them. However, it is still incredibly demoralizing to be unable to do what you once loved. You really did love them, but... it wasn't enough.

Dottore, despite spending much time in his lab or elsewhere, still kept tabs on you of course. Not just as your doctor, but as your lover, it was important. He had seen you at your lowest numerous times before, comforting you through the worst moments, and he was angered - not at you of course, but rather at himself for being unable to do anything that would be enough for you. Yet he continued, even when you hid yourself from him.

This time, however, maybe the scientist could do a bit more. He doesn't particularly... approve of the Third, or your "friend", but she's far more knowledgeable in this area than he'll ever be. Thankfully, she didn't tease him too much, knowing of your current state.

Dottore had never been one to take much interest in your make-up or style, preferring to simply watch as you worked your magic. So seeing him walk in with make-up makes you think you're still dreaming. (You remember laughing at his segment's various fashion tastes when you woke up though.)

The questions die on your lips the moment he lays everything out and the soft brush tickles your face, not to mention how he's obviously inexperienced yet he's still doing a good job. A part of you aren't surprised because of course he'd be skilled at most things, but still, you thought Celestia would sooner fall on Teyvat than Dottore do your make-up for you. Slowly, you watch as he transforms your face into something that was once dearly familiar.

It's not the same. It may never be. But it's more than enough for you, to revisit the old days that you loved so much. You fear you may cry full-on if you speak, so a simple kiss on your husband's face will have to do.

But regardless of what you look like, no matter how much your body and looks will change, Zandik will always view you as the most beautiful creation on this planet.

[box-radio]

Quick coloring that took around an hour each :3!

Below there's a song that reminds me of the goobers

Also omg is the first picture @mayowayo and @bina4tbhk?! (sorry for the ping)

[binas-official]

Laten we een soort BiNaS maken maar dan voor Alfa vakken. Dan sorteren we de tabellen van a tot z in plaats van 1 tot 99 want alfavakken hebben geen nummers. En in die tabellen zetten we dan allemaal termen die in een bepaalde taal gebruikt worden en een uitleg erbij, net als BiNaS. Een soort van boek vol met woorden... Nu alleen nog een catchy naam bedenken...

[just-incorrect-beastars]

Haru: Dumbest scar stories, go!

Jack: I burned my tongue once drinking tea.

Bill: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade.

Pina: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and it burned.

Legosi: I almost lost an eye fighting a bear.

Louis: I have emotional scars.

Louis: Also I fed my foot to Legosi.

[stankworth]

The Worsties.

[binaconfusa]

He's deciding what to draw

[binart]

i wanna try out different styles & coloring techniques.. 👁️👁️ but also still draw my comfort ship, u kno?

[deflatedcat]

binah