#but i am not good at taking care of things that are high maintenance

[eddiethehunted]

how hard is it to have a pet snake...like how much maintenance are they : (

[pucksandpower]

Puppy Love

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you’re definitely not jealous of the tiny sausage dog who seems to take up every second of your boyfriend’s attention … but it sure feels nice when Leo decides he’s a mama’s boy and Charles gets a taste of his own medicine

You stroll into the spacious living room, eyes narrowing as you spot Charles sitting on the couch, a tiny dachshund puppy curled up contentedly on his lap. “Charles … what is that?”

He looks up with a sheepish grin. “Surprise! Meet Leo, our new puppy.”

You shake your head slowly. “Our puppy? I don’t recall agreeing to get a dog.”

Charles scratches Leo’s velvety ears, eliciting a blissful tail thump. “I know, I know. But look how cute he is! I couldn’t resist.”

Crossing your arms, you try your best to seem stern despite the puppy’s heart-melting adorableness. “We haven’t even discussed this. A dog is a huge responsibility.”

“I’ve thought it through,” Charles insists. “Leo is the perfect breed for our lifestyle — small, low maintenance, and they make amazing companions.” He holds the drowsy pup up with a beseeching expression. “How can you say no to this face?”

You bite your lip, wavering. The puppy really is criminally cute with his soulful eyes and ridiculously long body. “Well … I suppose we could give it a trial run,” you concede. “But you’re taking care of him.”

Charles beams. “Deal! You’ll fall in love, I promise.” He sets Leo back on his lap, rubbing the puppy’s belly. “Who’s the best boy? You are!”

Watching them bond, a prickle of jealousy stirs in your chest. Is this what you signed up for — playing second fiddle to a canine?

Over the following days, Charles is utterly smitten, devoting every spare moment to Leo. He takes the pup everywhere, cooing over him incessantly and showering him with treats and toys. Meanwhile, you often find yourself … ignored.

“Charles? Are you listening?” You frown as he doesn’t respond, too busy dangling a chew rope just out of Leo’s reach in a teasing game.

You huff out a sigh. “I guess I’ll just make dinner for one then.”

Finally, he glances up with a distracted, “Hmm? Sorry, what was that?”

Throwing up your hands, you stalk into the kitchen, simmering with a childish sense of being replaced in your boyfriend’s affections. Stupid dog ...

A few nights later, you’re getting ready for bed when Charles appears in the doorway, Leo tucked under one arm like a furry purse. “Hey, I need to run out for a bit. Can you keep an eye on Leo?”

“What? Why?” You pause in the middle of removing your makeup.

Charles grimaces. “ I … may have waited until the last minute to get his puppy pads and food refilled.”

You groan. “Fine, I’ll watch him. But just this once!”

“You’re the best, thank you!” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before setting Leo down with a stern, “Be good for your maman, okay?”

He dashes out, leaving you staring at the puppy sitting innocently in the middle of the bedroom floor. Leo blinks up at you, tiny tail wagging.

For a long stretch, you simply regard each other in silence. Then, hesitantly, you sink down to sit cross-legged. “Well? What am I supposed to do with you?”

Leo waddles over, sniffing at your knee before clambering into your lap with surprising determination for such a little guy. You tense, unsure what to do as he turns in a few circles and settles with a contented sigh, warm weight pressing against you.

Huh … he’s actually kind of cuddly.

Tentatively patting his silky fur, you admit, “I can see why Charles likes you so much.”

Leo’s only response is a sleepy snuffle, lashes fluttering shut. Despite yourself, you can’t resist smiling at how peaceful he looks, tiny paws twitching as he dreams. Maybe this dog thing won’t be so bad.

That notion lasts until Leo startles awake with a high-pitched yelp, legs scrambling as he leaps off your lap and takes off running. “Leo? Leo!” You give chase, wincing as his claws skitter across the hardwood in his panic.

Finally, you catch up to him quivering under the living room sofa. “Oh no, it’s okay!” You stretch out on the floor, clicking your tongue soothingly. “Come here, little guy. I’ve got you.”

Leo whimpers, but after a few tense minutes of coaxing, he creeps out just enough for you to scoop him up. You settle back against the couch with him bundled in your arms, murmuring reassurances as he trembles.

“Shhh, you’re safe … good boy ...” You press a tender kiss between his floppy ears, stroking him until his quaking fades to contented wriggles. As your apprehension melts away, a fierce protectiveness blossoms in your chest. This precious little soul is yours to care for now.

When Charles returns, he pauses in the hallway, tilting his head quizzically at the sight of you reclined on the sofa with Leo completely passed out on your stomach. “Having fun over there?”

You glance down at the slumbering puppy with a soft smile. “Actually … yeah. I think Leo and I are going to be just fine.”

A delighted grin spreads across Charles’s face. “I knew you two would hit it off!”

Over the ensuing weeks, you find yourself increasingly enamored with your four-legged child. Leo shadows your every step, bouncing around underfoot until you inevitably scoop him up to snuggle close. You start pushing all the throw pillows together to create a special nest for him on the couch. Charles teases that you’re getting a little carried away with spoiling the pup rotten.

“Oh, hush,” you retort without any real bite, nuzzling Leo’s plush cheek. “My baby deserves nothing but the best, isn’t that right?”

“Baby?” Charles arches an amused brow. “I think someone’s going overboard.”

You stick out your tongue, cuddling Leo closer with a playful glare. “Don’t listen to your papa. He’s just jealous of our bond.”

“Hey, I’m not the one treating him like a literal infant!” Charles laughs, reaching over to ruffle Leo’s ears. But the puppy twists away with a protesting whine, burying his face against your neck.

Charles pauses, brow furrowing in a brief flicker of hurt. You think nothing of it until the same thing happens again at dinner … and on your evening walk around the block … and at bedtime when Leo kicks up a fuss about sleeping in his own bed instead of yours.

“Leo, come on!” Charles groans in frustration when the puppy darts under the dresser instead of coming to him. “What’s with you lately?”

He shoots you an aggrieved look, ruffling a hand through his tousled waves. “Ever since you started carrying him everywhere, he won’t leave your side. You’ve turned my own dog against me!”

You shrug innocently, scratching behind Leo’s silky ear when he peeks out to flash you an adoring gaze. “I can’t help it if he knows who his favorite parent is.”

“Favorite parent?” Charles splutters. “That’s my dog you’re talking about!”

You gasp in mock offense, gathering Leo up to press a loud smacker against his fuzzy head. “Don’t listen to him, baby! Papa’s just grumpy because I’m better at cuddles.”

Charles narrows his eyes at the giggling puppy now practically swimming in your embrace. “Is that so? We’ll see about that.”

He swoops in to snatch Leo away, cradling the squirming pup against his chest. “Who’s the favorite, huh? I’m the one who picked you out, you little traitor.”

But Leo simply strains back towards you, pawing at Charles’ arm with distressed whimpers until you take him back. He immediately settles with a contented sigh, licking your chin gloatingly as Charles gapes.

“Oh, that is war ...” Your boyfriend mutters, stalking away with hunched shoulders.

You blink after him in confusion before shrugging it off in favor of cooing over the dachshund. “Did mean old Papa try to take you from Mama? Don’t worry, sweetie, I won’t let him.”

From that point on, a constant battle for Leo’s affections rages between you and Charles. He’ll try enticing the puppy with treats or toys, only for Leo to bypass them entirely in favor of your open arms. You can’t help but preen victoriously every time Leo cuddles into your embrace with a sigh of pure bliss.

“You’ve turned him against me!” Charles bemoans one evening as Leo dozes contentedly on your lap, stubbornly ignoring the tennis ball being waved enticingly in front of his nose. “What’s a guy got to do to get some puppy love around here?”

You smirk, idly stroking Leo’s velvety ears. “Guess he just prefers spending time with his one true love.”

“Yeah, yeah ...” Charles grumbles, but you catch the fond curl of his lips as he watches you fawning over the pup. He flops down beside you with a theatrical groan. “Unbelievable. Replaced in my own home by a hairy sausage.”

You gasp in mock outrage. “Don’t call my baby such things!” Scooping up Leo, you pepper his fuzzy face with smooches until he squirms happily. “Did you hear what Papa said about you? He’s just jealous!”

“I am not jealous!” Charles protests, even as his gaze tracks the gentle way you cradle the puppy. There’s a wistful edge to his voice when he murmurs, “Remember when you used to look at me like that?”

You pause, registering the plaintive note. Slowly, you shift Leo into the crook of one arm so you can reach out and cup Charles’ cheek with your free hand, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “Aww, my poor baby,” you tease gently. “Don’t worry — there’s enough love to go around for both of you.”

Charles leans into your touch with a huff, darting eyes betraying how much he misses your undivided attention. “I’m starting to doubt that.”

“Well then, let me remind you ...” You lean in until your lips are a hair’s breadth from his, holding his gaze as you murmur, “I happen to have the world’s biggest, most annoyingly persistent crush on this one race car driver.”

A shiver ripples through Charles, his breath catching. Before he can respond, you close the scant distance in a searing kiss, lips molding hot and desperate as you pour every ounce of adoration into the embrace. Leo gives a disgruntled squeak at being squished between your bodies, quickly wriggling free to skitter off with an offended sniff.

You hardly notice, too busy mapping the contours of Charles’ mouth with hungry sweeps of your tongue, muffling his delicious groans by deepening the kiss. By the time you finally break apart, you’re both left panting harshly, gazes locked in a blissful haze.

“Still think I only have eyes for the dog?” You rasp, relishing the way Charles’ pupils are blown wide.

He swallows thickly. “You make a … convincing argument.”

“Mmm, I try.” You lean in to nip at his kiss-swollen lower lip with a sly grin. “But I’m more than happy to keep making my case ...”

Charles growls low in his throat, hauling you forward until you’re properly straddling his lap, bodies flush. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Breathless laughter spills from your lips as he surges up to capture them once more, hands roaming eagerly over your curves. In that heated moment, the puppy is forgotten as you pour all your focus into worshiping each other, affections firmly realigned.

Well … until a tiny bark sounds from nearby, followed by indignant grumbling and the patter of tiny paws. You reluctantly break the steamy kiss, rolling your eyes fondly as Leo hops up onto the couch to shove his way between the two of you.

“Easy there, troublemaker,” you chuckle, stroking the puppy’s silken fur as he clambers between you and Charles, yipping happily now that he has both his humans’ full attention. “See, baby? I told you there was enough love for all of us.”

Charles chuckles ruefully. “It’s a good thing he’s cute.”

You grin, leaning in to rest your forehead against his as Leo snuggles down with a contented sigh. In this perfect cocoon of warmth and adoration, you can’t imagine anything better.

And if the three of you stay snuggled up on that couch long into the evening, trading lingering kisses and delighted giggles as Leo’s little tail thumps happily … well, no one has to know.

[richarlotte]

High Maintenance, High Return. 

I am someone who deeply believes in being the best. I was raised to believe that God is beautiful and loves beauty, and so there is a part of me that strives for beauty in everything I do. I am incredibly high maintenance; I take care of my mind, body, and soul; I strive to treat people beautifully, and I’m incredibly particular about who I allow into my life. For me, part of being high maintenance is protecting my energy and only allowing quality into my life. When it comes to my romantic relationships, I won’t date any man who is insecure about the way I choose to present myself to the world and go about my life. If you are a high maintenance woman in any way, shape, or form, you need to be with someone who understands that. I invest in myself, experience a high return in investments, and I think that coming to the realization that my life was best lived with an understanding that it’s perfectly normal to be high maintenance changed the way I view myself, how I spend my money, and how I invest my time. This is a direct result of how I was raised and it took me a long time to realize that caring for myself isn’t shameful; I should be my first priority. 

Elevate & Influence!

This is something I learned from tagging along to a newly made friend’s JL meetings in NYC. You should be focused on elevating yourself and influencing others to do better. Does this mean that you have to actively take people under your wing and mentor them? No, what I mean is that people should look up to you and be influenced to do better. For example, one of my good friends on campus is incredibly involved in day-to-day life; she’s always doing something out of the ordinary and encouraging us to come along with her. She’s influenced me to do more, explore more, and try the things that I’m uncomfortable doing. She’s one of those people who will never say no when you ask her if she wants to try something foreign, and knowing her has helped me become more adventurous and open-minded than I could ever imagine. Elevating yourself is always going to be positive; you might not think it possible, but as you elevate yourself, surround yourself with uplifting and inspiring people, and influence others to do the same, your life will slowly improve. 

Richarlotte x

[chuuyascumsock]

I am NOT a Sadist (I am) || Minors DNI

Summary: Sorry, not sorry. I love when there’s hurt feelings with emotional make-up sex :)

Tags: Chuuya Nakahara/Reader, Female reader, Angst, Mentions Of Depression, Hurt/Comfort, I Totally Projected My Poor Communication Skills Onto The MC, Also Self Sabotaging, But She Gets Better I Swear, I Project A Lot Actually Lmao, Sounds Kind Of Like An Unhealthy Relationship At First But They Fix It, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, They Do Hurt Each Other’s Feelings A Little, Obviously There’s Crying, Pet Names (Baby, Doll, Sweetheart, Sweet Girl, etc.), Mention Of Phone Sex, Handjob, Fingering, Emotional Sex, Make-Up Sex, Creampie, Lowkey Breeding Kink If You Squint, Actually Pretty Vanilla For Once, Pussy Is Chuuya’s Therapy, Classic Missionary, Missionary Accomplished, Why Does No One Talk About Chuuya Going On His Overseas Trips And Leaving His S/O For Months At A Time, I Feel Like It’s Such A Good Angst Idea, My Longest Oneshot Yet Btw At A 5k Wordcount.

The honeymoon phase of your relationship with Chuuya ended quicker than you had anticipated. It felt like a slap in the face in all honesty, unexpecting of what you were really getting into as a normal civilian. Being married to an executive of the port mafia had its many upsides, yet no one really seemed to talk about the downsides and struggles of the mental toll that weighed on your conscience that came with the title as Chuuya’s wife. 

Chuuya had always been there when you needed him, and you were grateful that even with his rough exterior and conflict with opening up emotionally he could empathize with your varying issues and emotional outbursts. You tried not to be emotionally high maintenance for the sake of Chuuya already having so much on his plate, and things had seemed to be going well for the time being. 

Until he went away for his first overseas trip during your marriage. 

It was normal for Chuuya to take overseas trips while you were dating, some lasting a few days to a few weeks at most and during those times you often texted him throughout the day about how much you missed him before calling later on when he was lying exhausted in a hotel room to talk about how both of your days had gone. Of course, it had often led to phone sex, ending with the camera angled against a pillow while your fingers worked in and out of your neglected, needy pussy– your face buried into his pillow and smothering your senses with what was left of his presence in your apartment. And Chuuya would stroke his throbbing length at the sight with languid motions, thumb swiping over his leaking tip as he murmured through the speaker about how he wished he could be there to feel you split open on his cock and fill you up with his cum. And every time he came back from his trips, your relationship seemingly grew stronger from the distance, spending all his free time with you whenever he got the chance. 

And then Mori sent him away on a half year mission to Europe and everything seemed to go to shit. 

It was different when you had been dating as it was for a few days to some weeks at most, but a six-month excursion made your throat clench and your heart ache with saudade. You tried to keep a positive mindset, yet it was harder as each day had passed and Chuuya grew too tired from the days’ events to even call anymore. Messages on his side grew shorter and dull by the end of the third month, only sending a small good morning and good night text with the occasional ‘I love you’.  

Instead of bringing it up or attempting to fix it, you felt a sense of hopelessness and withdrew from him as well, not wanting to burden him with your spamming messages or feelings that could hinder him while dealing with an important mission. You spent the next three months stewing in a depressive state, loneliness eating away at you as you went day to day going to your job and coming back to an empty apartment. You stopped going out with your friends, stopped bothering to take care of yourself– completely ruining your sleeping and eating schedule in the process– leaving you with dark bags under your eyes and slightly paler looking complexion. You had grown so comfortable in Chuuya’s love and had no idea how to handle the situation you were in, fearing of saying something that would upset him. 

When Chuuya had come back, he hadn’t noticed the change in your behavior– too tired himself to see the toll his absence had taken on you. But to you, your straining relationship was apparent, and it only fueled your depression as Chuuya spent less time with you when he got back home than he used to when you were dating. He was either working on other missions given by Mori within the area or spent his free time sleeping. You barely felt as if you were married anymore, your relationship seeming more like roommates who rarely ever interacted every passing day.  

Your deteriorating mental health was beginning to wear your mind and patience thin, leading to a series of outbursts and fights between the two of you. You’d snap at him with an antagonizing start, and he’d finish with a frustrating end, either leaving to cool off or going to sleep on the couch. You could tell it was getting to him because he confronted you one day after he had mentioned that Mori was thinking about sending him on another grueling months-long overseas mission in America and you gave him the cold shoulder, closing yourself off from him. 

“What the hell has been your problem lately, huh? You’ve been acting shitty for the last few weeks and it’s really starting to get on my nerves,” He gripes, crossing his arms over his chest defensively as he leans against the kitchen counter. 

“I don’t have a problem, you’re the one starting things,” You tiredly glare at the words in your novel, wanting to read and forget everything falling apart around you, but it’s hard when Chuuya persists.  

Chuuya scoffs, “Bullshit, you have this nasty attitude and it's been bothering the hell out of me– so what the hell is your problem?” He repeats, his eyes burning holes into the side of your apathetic expression from across the room.  

“Good thing you won’t have to deal with it for long, huh?” You respond flatly, avoiding his question once again. You and Chuuya have always had an issue with things like this due to him being blunt when he was upset about something while you tended to dance around it and drawl the problem on longer than it had to be than if you were to talk about your problems from the start. 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” His jaw sets, teeth clenching behind his scowl, “You know it annoys the hell out of me when you say cryptic shit like that— answer my question.” Chuuya’s temper was something no one enjoyed testing and you once feared setting him off, but now you couldn’t find it in you to care whether he blew up on you or not. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your next mission?” You’re metaphorically poking more than just a bear at this point; this is an entire fucking lion you’re sticking your hand into the mouth of– waiting for it to rip you apart. 

Chuuya’s steps are heavy as he approaches you with a stern glare, “I’m not leaving until you tell me, I’m tired of these games, [name].”  

His words make you snort bitterly as you mock, “Yeah, okay– like you’re not just Mori’s lapdog– at his every beck and call.” You know he’d leave the minute Mori sent a text or called asking where he was. 

Chuuya’s face contorts in mild surprise and slight hurt at your words, not expecting you to stoop so low as to refer to him as a lapdog for Mori. “I really don’t know why the fuck you’re acting like this, but it’s seriously pissin’ me off. Can you just tell me what I supposedly did wrong to make you treat me like this? Because last time I checked, I didn’t fuckin’ do anything,” His statement was ironic in the sense that him not doing anything was the problem.  

Your nostrils flare with a deep exhale in spiteful amusement, though nothing was amusing about it, because you knew you were going to regret everything you said after the fight was over.  

“Of course, you didn’t,” There’s clear sarcasm in your tone, your hands now messing with the pages of your novel mindlessly. 

“Why won’t you just talk to me!? I can’t read your mind– how can I fix a problem when you won’t tell me what I did wrong?” He starts to raise his voice in frustration. You can see his fists clenching from the corners of your eyes. 

You only remove yourself further emotionally by shutting down completely. It was common for you to go completely non-verbal in any argument, the stress of the conflict physically affecting you in ways that kept you from speaking– like your throat tightening and tongue growing heavy in your mouth. This was another issue between you and Chuuya as he was the type to raise his voice whilst arguing to make himself and his feelings known, the complete opposite of yourself. 

An inkling of doubt buries in your chest as you begin to think that maybe you’re not as compatible with Chuuya as you thought you were. 

Chuuya notices your silence and he feels his impatience growing, his foot starting to tap against the floor with agitation as his hands fall to rest on his hips, “God dammit, [name], can you just tell me? I’m not in the mood to play detective and try to figure out why you’re playing your fucking games, I have shit to do.” 

You find it in you to respond, though it’s weak and filled with animosity, “You always have shit to do.” 

An exasperated sigh leaves Chuuya as he stands in front of you, “Is that what this is about? Because I have work? A job? Believe it or not, the mafia isn’t as lenient as to give me a day off, sweetheart,” He says sarcastically, throwing his hands up for emphasis. “Sorry that I have to serve an organization that will literally have my head if god forbid, I even thought about leaving!” 

“You don’t even spend time with me anymore when you do have time off,” You rasp, your eyes set on the crumbling pages underneath your fingertips. 

“I’m exhausted because I’m constantly working my ass off! Sorry that I can’t do fuck whatever and whenever like you can! Unlike you, I actually work for the things I want instead of sitting around and waiting for it to just fall into my lap!” Your brows furrow at his words, knowing it’s utter bullshit. But it still gets under your skin. 

You could easily quit your job and live off of the makings of what Chuuya has— he’s even offered the idea before— but you wanted to keep a sense of independence and to continue to be productive instead of a burden that burns cash. Your conclusion is that it was to get back at your lapdog comment. 

“And you know what? You have nothing to fuckin’ complain about because you get everything you want. Are you just bored? Is that why you’re starting shit? Or is it those friends of yours filling your head with bullshit?” He leans over to your eye level, his hands resting above his knees for support with a firm stare into the side of your face as you refuse to make eye contact with him. 

You were over this. All of it. You were tired of the tension, the fighting, feeling the way you were.  

Which led the next words to slip out from your mouth without a second thought, “I want a break.” 

Chuuya’s scowl quickly shifted to a look of pure bewilderment, to immense hurt and slight panic, then to anger, “A break? You can’t just take a break whenever something doesn’t go your way, that’s not how this works.” 

“I don’t care, I want a break,” It’s getting difficult to talk again as you feel your eyes begin to water. 

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that,” He demands, almost hesitantly. 

It takes minutes for you to finally look into his piercing gray eyes without crying and repeat your words, “I want a break.” 

His body straightens and he brings a hand to rub at his eyes, his other hand on his hip. He seems disappointed and a whole lot of other emotions, but mostly frustrated at this whole ordeal. There’s a deafening silence before he drags his hand down his face and lets it fall to his side, “You want a break? Fine, I’ll tell Mori I’m going on the mission then and be gone by tomorrow morning— you’ll get your break.” He then storms off to finish getting ready for work, leaving you to sit alone on the couch, regretting everything that just happened. 

And even when you still have the chance to stop him from walking out the door and just talk to him, you don’t. Instead, you stare down at the ring on your finger numbly, listening to his heavy footfalls as they move towards the front door and then the slamming that follows when he leaves. 

You soon break down crying after, feeling as if you’ve lost everything. You know you could easily fix it with a simple text of wanting to talk things out, but the self-sabotaging nature in you refused to move a muscle. You cry for hours until your body grows exhausted, and you fall asleep on the couch in a tangled mess of some throw blankets and decorative pillows. 

Hours later, Chuuya enters your shared apartment quietly, taking his hat off as he runs a hand through his hair. He’s tired just as much as you are with how things are going in your relationship, and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s lost and trying so desperately to figure out how to fix it, but he can’t when you won’t tell him what the problem is. He knows you struggle deep down with telling others about how you feel, and it makes him feel hopeless at times when you won’t even tell him how you feel. 

His eyes trail over the living room before they fall on you and the blankets your body is buried under, your sleeping face peeking through. Chuuya takes light steps over to the couch before crouching in front of you and taking off one of his gloves, his hand slowly reaching out to move a few baby hairs away from your face. His eyes soften when he rubs away the tear stains on your cheeks with his thumb.  

There’s a small ache in his chest from the events and words exchanged earlier, feeling a growing tightness in his throat. He didn’t mean it when he said those things and he knows you didn’t mean what you said. But that doesn’t mean they didn’t hurt any less.  

He begins to feel guilt weighing on his consciousness. He replays all your expressions and words in his mind and starts to think about your reaction to the whole reason the fight started in the first place. It takes a few moments of him silently sitting next to the couch and caressing your face mindlessly until he finally realizes what’s been wrong the whole time. 

When you wake up hours later, you’re no longer on the couch, but placed comfortably in your bed. You rub the crust from your eyes and feel a heavy weight in your chest like a bag of stones when the spot next to you is void of Chuuya. ‘He actually left,’ You thought, but you knew you had no one to blame but yourself— even if you had hoped that he would stay. Now fully awake, you slip out of bed sluggishly and shuffle out your bedroom. 

A faint voice from the living room catches your attention and you notice that it’s the TV. There’s a small spark of hope that flickers in your stomach as you slowly creep into the living room. Relief settles in your heart to see the back of Chuuya’s head peeking from the couch. You make your way around the couch timidly until you’re in Chuuya’s sights. He stares tiredly at the TV before he sees you move into his view from the corner of his eye and looks over to you. 

“I… thought you were going to go on the mission…” You whisper, anxiously twisting and fidgeting with the end of your oversized shirt that slightly hangs off your shoulders. 

“I had Mori get someone else to do it,” Chuuya responds quietly, his eyes traveling your figure from top to bottom before propping an arm on the backrest of the couch as a silent invitation for you to sit next to him. 

As soon as you sit next to him, his arm shifts until his callous hand rests on the nape of your neck, rubbing at your skin in a soothing manner. He pulls you into his side after a few moments and turns his face slightly to press a soft kiss against your hairline.  

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” He starts off, sincere in each word as he continues, “Why didn’t you say anything?” It sounds almost rhetorical because you know he knows why on a surface level, but he doesn’t know why.  

You’re silent for a bit before hesitantly answering, “I didn’t want to stress you out by making you feel like you had to constantly tend to me.” 

“You’re my wife, not a burden. No matter how stressed out I am, I don’t want you to ever think that you can’t come to me with your feelings or just to bother me. I know I was gone for a long time, and I shouldn’t’ve become as distant as I had, but–” He sighs out in exasperation, “–Baby, you’ve gotta communicate with me. I don’t wanna fight like this and worry about our marriage. I want us to work out– I need us to work out because…” Chuuya trails off before moving his body to turn towards you and tilt your chin up with his other hand to look you in the eyes. 

“I need you, [name]. You’re my person. Okay?”  

Your chest throbs and aches at his words as his slate gray eyes flicker over your face and then meet your now watering eyes, “You’re my person too, Chuuya. I’m sorry…” You croak out through quivering lips and break down into tears, leaning forward to bury your face into his chest. “M’sorry– didn’t mean anything I said last night– won’t do it again,” You stumble over your words through muffled sobs.  

Chuuya moves his hand from your chin to hold the back of your head, pressing you into his chest as he kisses the top of your head, “I know you didn’t, sweetheart. I didn’t mean what I said either. You know I love you, right?” 

You nod, your small sobs and hiccups muted by his loose tank top as you hug your arms around his torso to pull him to you as close as possible, “I love you too…” 

He pulls you back reluctantly from your embrace and cups your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs, “I promise that I’ll make an effort to be a better husband, I don’t want you to feel like that ever again. I shouldn’t have neglected you like that and made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. That’s the last thing that I want.” 

“I’m gonna do better too, promise,” You sniffle, trying to hold back from anymore tears falling down your face, “Wanna be better for you.” 

“I wanna be better for you too, doll,” He murmurs before his face grows closer to yours to place a soft, innocent kiss against your lips. 

Your hands come to clasp over his own that cup your face and your eyes lull into his fond gaze, “I missed you,” You whisper with longing. 

“I missed you too, baby. It killed me not being able to wake up next to you every morning n’see your pretty face,” He exhales gently, kissing you again. 

Your heart stutters at his words and you reciprocate the kiss, refusing to pull away as quickly as before. When your lashes flutter open, you lean your face into his touch, “I need you, Chuuya,” And it’s clear to him that it wasn’t meant in just an innocent manner.  

“Yeah? Missed me that much, sweet girl?” His nose nudges against yours affectionately before capturing your lips into a sensual kiss. Feeling his lips smother against yours and the ring on his finger to remind you of his undying love and devotion to you only encourages the simmering heat in your chest and lower stomach. And when he mumbles a muffled, “C’mere,” against your lips, you’re quick to climb into his lap and thread a hand into his ginger hair. He hums in amusement at your eagerness and moves his lips to trail pecks along your jaw and down your throat, “Always were so needy f’me and I fuckin’ love it– love everything about you, doll.” He groans under his breath, hands heavily groping at any part of your plush body to keep you against him. 

“Only for you, it’s always been you,” You breathe out with a shaky exhale and Chuuya is unable to hide the small whimper that escapes the back of his throat. 

“Fuck, it’s always been you too, doll. I love you so much it hurts,” He pulls you back down into a desperate and hungry open-mouthed kiss, his tongue seeking out until his muscle is entangling with yours.  

Your face flushes with warmth as you mold your lips against his feverishly, head tilting to deepen the kiss until you’re both panting for air into each other’s mouths, “Please…” You plead, squirming in his lap. 

“I know, babydoll, I feel it too,” Chuuya groans quietly, feeling your thinly clothed pussy skim over the bulge in his gym shorts. “Wanna take this slow though, need to feel all of you, okay?” His hands cup the bottom of your thighs as he moves off the couch to stand up, your lips not parting for even a second as he makes his way to your bedroom and over to the bed. When his shins bump against the bottom frame of the bed, he leans over to lay you down on the mattress gently, lips leaving yours to move back down the expanse of your neck. You shiver, fingers messily tangling into his locks of hair whilst your other hand finds its way in between your bodies to run your hand over his erection. “F-Fuck,” Chuuya breathes out against the skin of your throat, hips jerking forward into your touch. “God, it’s been so long, I almost came,” He admits with embarrassment before latching onto a small patch of your skin to suckle at, pressing kisses to the spot occasionally. 

“Baby, please— wanna touch you so bad,” Was all you had to whine before he slips his baggy gym shorts off to reveal his stiff, throbbing cock. Your hand wraps around him, thumb pressing to his leaking slit to swipe at the precum dribbling out to spread it along his length with a few pumps of your hand. There’s a quiet “schlick” each time your wrist flicks to draw your hand back up to his angry mushroom tip before moving back down to the base of his shaft. 

Chuuya is unashamed when he lets out airy moans against your neck that’s now littered with his love marks, “Shit, you’re s’fuckin’ good, baby— just like that.” His right hand finds its way under your large shirt to grab at your underwear and pull at it until it tears off you. 

“Chuuya,” You whine in complaint, watching him toss the now torn fabric onto the floor, “I liked those.” 

“S’okay, I’ll get you more, sweetheart, promise,” His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he slips his middle and ring finger through your folds to spread your glistening sex open. “Look at how fucking wet you are, you like jerkin’ me off that much, pretty girl?” He groans, eyes glued to your hole clenching around nothing. 

You bury your face into the crook of his neck timidly as your hand pumping around his cock falters slightly from the way he talks, “C-Chuuya…” 

Chuuya chuckles before softly moaning into the side of your head, face nuzzling affectionately into your hair, “C’mon, doll, don’t be shy, look at how your sweet little cunt takes my fingers.” 

Flustered, you peek from his neck to watch his digits dip into your arousal, dragging them up to circle over your clit a few times and then slipping down to sink into your pulsing walls. Whilst his fingers weren’t considered long, they have you twitching from pleasure with how thick they are. “Feels good,” You slur out as your hand squeezes around the base of his cock. 

“Yeah? You love it when I stretch this pussy out with my fat fingers, huh?” He sucks in a short breath as he tries not to come right then and there in your hand as he fingers his digits in and out of your squelching pussy. “My sweet girl likes having her hole stuffed by her husband, hm,” His fingers work faster in and out of your cunt as he angles his thumb to draw rough circles into your needy clit.  

Your grip and stroking around his length only continues to falter as your thighs spasm softly, “M’gonna come— fuck— Chuu, noo, no, no…” You squirm, your other hand tugs his hair. 

“What’s wrong, doll?” Chuuya’s fingers slow to a stop, causing you to whimper from the ebbing buildup of your orgasm. He’s the same as you when he feels your hand come to a stop around his shaft. 

“Wanna come on your cock,” You mumble into him, “Want you to fill me up with your cum.” 

Chuuya feels his heart thrum in his throat wildly as he hears you speak before making quick work of your shirt and his tank top until you're both as bare as you were when you were brought into the world. “Yeah? Need me to fill your cute pussy up until my cum is spilling outta ya?” He hovers over you between your spread thighs as he hooks your legs over his hips.  

“Just wanna feel you close to me,” You admit with a sweet and quiet voice, your legs drawing him in until his throbbing cock is rubbing between your pussy lips with his tip nudging at your puffy clit. 

His eyes widen barely before softening, his movements becoming less erratic and eager as he leans down to place a gentle kiss against your lips. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, doll, m’gonna take care of ya like I always do.” He whispers, his right hand moving to guide the tip of his cock against the entrance of your core. Much like his fingers, his thick length bullies into your warm pussy slowly, stretching and splitting you open on his cock. “Fuuuuck, baby, you take me so well. Can’t get enough of seeing you stretch open on me.” 

Your legs tighten around him as you feel his hips press against yours until his balls are flush with your ass, “You’re s’big— it hurts every time, but it hurts good,” A small whimper leaves you as your hands grip at the bedsheets. 

When Chuuya pulls away, he watches his cock twitch from the loss of warmth your tight hole provided before seeing it stretch you back open to fill you. “God, I’ll never get over you,” He hisses through his teeth, pistoning his cock in and out of you at an agonizing pace, “Your pussy was made for me.” 

Chuuya’s gaze isn’t on where your bodies connect for long before he’s back to hovering over you, pinning your hands above your head. They’re placed palm up on top of one another before being locked in place with his left hand interlocking your fingers. The action makes your heart tighten with affection as well as your fingers when you squeeze his hand. The subtle noise of metal clinking from your wedding bands only makes your heart swell with pure unadulterated love for him further. Your eyes start to water again from the overwhelming emotions and love you feel for him. 

He squeezes your hand back in comfort, eyes studying your teary face, “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that, doll?” He says out of nowhere, “M’so lucky to have you.” 

You clench around him as you stare back through blurry eyes back into his focused ones, moaning from the way his tip kisses at your g-spot with each thrust. “Mm— Lucky to have you too— you’re so good to me, Chuu,” You mewl out, feeling your stomach twist and coil with intensity.  

“Want you to come for me, please, baby— wanna make you come,” Chuuya’s words grow more pitchy and airier as he reaches his right hand down to rub at your throbbing clit with vigor. 

“A-Ah, fuck—“ Your body arches, hips erratically bucking into his, “C-Coming..! Shit, s’too much.” You sob, tears slipping down your temples and into the mattress. Your cries are soon silenced by Chuuya’s lips swallowing your noises in a passionate, yet sloppy kiss. You muffle incoherently against his lips, but he knows it’s a repeated line of I love you’s as your nails dig into the back of his hand and you cream around his length.  

As your walls spasm around his twitching cock, a guttural groan leaves his throat and he spills his hot, viscous cum deep into your starving pussy until it’s leaking out of your tight hole and down his balls. “Atta girl…” He murmurs through pants, kissing your sweaty forehead lovingly. 

“I love you,” You repeat gently one last time as you both relish in the softness of your afterglow. 

“I love you too,” Chuuya sighs with a ghost of a smile on his face as he admires you underneath him, hand coming down from your hands to wipe away your stray tears, “Promise me you won’t go anywhere, doll? Cause I’ve still got years of loving you left to go.” 

[weepingpussywillowtree]

for the hate of trendy fast fashion sweaters

Okay, I want to preface this that there's nothing wrong with liking the style of these types of sweaters, though I think most of these are ugly, I do like some of them, I just wanted a place to put down my frustrations with these sweaters from a sustainability and wear-ability perspective, as well as my frustration with people coming into knitting spaces asking for dupes of these sweaters and then becoming upset when experienced knitters suggest that these sweaters are not the best idea. be an aware consumer. If you really must own one of these kinds of sweaters, understand that it will probably be a short lifespan or incredibly high maintenance garment. Or realistically, both.

Have you seen the newest sweater? everyone is talking about it. It looks like this

Or this

Or this

Yes. They are very unique looking. they're striking and sometimes even cool (in a photoshoot at least), but lets take a look at some of the problems with these types of sweaters, and how I feel that they exemplify fast fashion culture, and that culture invading fiber arts spaces as well.

Ethics, Pricing, and plastic waste

Let's take a look at this sweater as a case study for some of the ethical, sustainability, and pricing issues.

I think it exemplifies a lot of the issues with this wave of trendy sweaters.

first, lets take a look at the website. 260 dollars + shipping, 94% plastic, and from a cursory research, there seems to be no evidence that any of that price is going towards a living wage for its factory workers. So, not to be rude, but what exactly am I paying for? I have seen similar pricing and ethical issues almost across the board with these trendy sweaters.

There's nothing wrong with acrylic yarn on an individual level, it is cheap, easy to care for, and easily available, but for 260 dollars on an item that already it dry clean or gentle hand wash only due to its construction? I would expect higher quality materials. also, not this sweater in particular, but in many of these types of sweaters/brands it really bothers me that they have been able to market themselves as 'vegan' as a form of greenwashing when all of their clothes are plastic or mostly plastic. So yes, while its technically true that they are vegan, are vegan clothes really better for the environment when most of the time vegan clothes means more microfiber shedding pollution and eternal piles of plastic clothes waste?

okay, so now lets get to some common issues with the actual wear-ability and construction of these types of sweaters.

Roving Woes

I think everyone remembers these massive, chunky sweaters or even the roving blankets (roving is wool that has been processed but not yet spun). I'm not sure if the tops/sweaters of very chunky yarn are in peak trend anymore but I do see them around.

Here's the issue. If you want a garment that will fall apart in one wash, these are for you. If you want to have a garment be a lasting part of your wardrobe, move on.

A good example is above. These kinds of sweaters sell like hotcakes on Etsy and go upwards of 300 dollars a pop, but see that fuzziness around the edges? the lack of any twisting look that you'd typically see in yarn? this is roving and will pull, snag, pill, and straight up fall apart at the slightest provocation because the thing that gives spun fibers their strength, is well... the spinning part. The woolery has a great video about this where you can see the roving fall apart over time, and also collect, dirt, dust and other grossness over time with no good way to clean it. Making that 300 dollars you spent a disposable purchase, not an investment. Like buying a 300 dollar disposable rain poncho, but with even less use.

Finicky detailing

Things like ribbons, charms, and other items make an item hard to wash. If they are not properly secured, or sometimes even if they are, they will come off and either need to be thrown away or somehow reattached. These items can also tug, snag at, or warp the main fabric of the garment.

Neglecting Weaving in Ends

Another trend I've been seeing is not weaving in the ends of a garment, as you can see in that flower sweater above. This may give a cool sort of ripped jeans effect for some, but it will ultimately lead to the garment coming unraveled, and you will have wasted, in this case, like 600 dollars on nothing.

...

Overall, all of these trends lead to more plastic waste, disposable clothing, difficult or impossible to wash items, or clothing that you'll spend a lot of money on only to have it fall apart.

Its frustrating to see this clamoring for dupes or this rush for similar styles take over some fiber arts spaces and lead to wasteful consumption of yarn, and trend cycles where these sweaters quickly get created and then discarded.

thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[ladykailitha]

I have decided today I am giving out my Steve Harrington headcanons, because I love him so much.

His parents are very rich. His dad is new money, self made. His mom is old money.

His father is Indiana born and bred, but his mother is from Kentucky. She doesn't have her accent anymore because she trained herself out of it. Though it does show up when she's drunk or angry.

I know everyone does Richard (Dick) for his dad mainly for the lols, which I respect, but I think his name is Clint. It's just rich dude bro enough, you know? And then for the mom I go back and forth between Maureen and Allison. Allison because that's Ally Sheedy's character in The Breakfast Club and I often use her looks as bases for Mrs. Harrington.

They were never meant to be parents. They had the one because that's what was expected of them, but no. They don't like kids.

I don't know if his dad is only verbally abusive, but he is some kind of shit. Steve was so scared of him finding out that there was alcohol the night Barb vanished that that was all that consumed his thoughts. And even in season 3 Steve tells Dustin (thinking he was his dad) that he doesn't do drugs, just marijuana. Meaning that's something they've fought about a lot.

Kids of good parents rarely smoke, drink, smoke pot, and have wild parties all the time as an under-aged teenager. There are no doubt exceptions, but most of the time it's kids who are neglected and abused that are the ones that act out like that.

Steve had nannies and baby-sitters growing up that he saw more than his parents. But he would still be taken on actual vacations with them. Mostly to show off that they do have a son.

He was in baseball in middle school but quit when he got into high school. His parents put him in as many after school activities as they could. He was taught piano. Went to swimming and was so good at it, he joined the team in high school. Played basketball throughout both middle and high school. But he was forced to dropout due to the concussion Billy gave him his senior year. It's why he sneers at Brenda at the game when she says it would ironic if they won the championship the year after he graduated. Because he wasn't even on the team his last year.

When he turned sixteen they gave him his BMW. No, he did not get to pick the car or the color, but he takes very good care of it. Does a lot of the maintenance himself. One of the few things his dad taught him, but because you needed to know enough to make sure your mechanic wasn't ripping you off.

He can cook. But only if he has a recipe to follow and will get upset if it doesn't look like the picture. Is a consummate baker though. Because everything has a reason it's done like that and it makes sense.

Definitely a fall baby. That's why he was able to lifeguard for three years even if he didn't lifeguard after his senior year due to him working at Scoops Ahoy.

He's bad at math and science which is why the Party teases him all the time, but he's great at English and history.

Only applied at the schools his dad thought were "appropriate" and didn't get in. But to be fair, he was still suffering from a concussion when those applications went out and he wasn't really at his best. Just above his worst if he was honest.

He likes his preppy clothes and while he laughs it off, it upsets him when he's made fun for it.

Alt rock fan all the way. Depeche Mode, The Cure, New Order.

Has a list of the Party's likes and dislikes for food and other things, so he is the best gift giver. He doesn't spend a lot of money, though he has been accused of that a couple of times. But he prefers well thought out gifts over expensive ones. It's why Max, Eddie, and the Byers boys love Steve gifts. They never feel pressured to one up him.

Complete romantic. Loves being in love, but it was hard to pick up the pieces of his broken heart after what happened with Nancy.

Loves Robin, but even though it is sometimes weird, it never veers into creepy or obsessive. Robin is absolutely the vodka aunt of the party to Steve's mom.

When Eddie comes into the group, they tease him that's he's the dad to Steve's mom. Because as goofy as Eddie is he absolutely wouldn't let the kids get into real trouble.

Steve the romantic gets absolutely wooed by Eddie and never is made to feel wrong footed when showers Eddie with the affection he would for a girl. It's nice for a guy to receive flowers sometimes too.

Steve favorite flower is sunflowers. But his favorite color is blue.

He absolutely keeps the vest. Refuses to give it back. Which Eddie is surprisingly okay with.

I could go on forever, but I'll stop there for now and if I come up with more I'll add them later.

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

Opinions on owning pet parrots? I'm doing a degree in animal welfare and have pretty much come to the conclusion that the smaller species are fine if you can provide what they need but the larger birds like the greys, outside of being rescues, shouldn't be pets at all.

Okaaaaaaaay so time to make everyone mad at me again I guess

parrots have been human companion animals for longer than Judaism has been around, so, I don't think we can just say "it's wrong" and force everyone to stop doing a thing that's been done for that long. Like, this isn't a human randomly taking home a tiger, this is a long going process with many species of parrots now being near-domesticated in the strictest sense of the term

Parrot ownership is in fact ancient in many "tropical" areas and the idea that it's a new thing is... white supremacy! what a shock!

in the United States (I am not talking about other countries, just my own), literally no companion parrots are wild caught anymore. They're bred. Bred as companions. If we were to outlaw larger parrot ownership, many birds would be without a home, and that's morally reprehensible

in fact, the kind of backlash against parrot ownership that's risen up in the past decade has directly led to a shelter crisis. most shelters are overfilled and overstressed, which is a *lot* worse for the birds in many cases than home ownership

parrots are pets that have extraordinarily high care needs. They are not good pets for everyone. but no pet is! Every single companion animal has its pluses and downsides, and many of them have many more downsides than pluses. Doesn't mean they shouldn't have a home.

There are some people who are actually able to take care of companion parrots, adequately, in their homes. First of all, we've learned a lot in the past few decades. Second of all, there are lifestyles that work well with even larger parrots and their needs.

So, while the number of human beings on this planet who can adequately take care of large parrots is extremely small, it is not zero. Which means if someone thinks they can take care of a bird well, and has the space and resources and time, then they should be allowed to, if that's what they wish

Because birds in the USA are bred as companions, the vast majority of said parrots would be unhappy in any situation that doesn't involve close contact with humans. Admittedly, all my parrots are "small" (whatever that means), but I know for a fact that if you took them away from our home they would be significantly worse off, because they're bonded to us. That's how this whole flocking thing works

Also, our most recent rescues, who had been stuck in a shelter for 15 years, are definitely happier now getting more individual attention and space. Shelters are supposed to be temporary places for most birds, not permanent homes, because they can't get the adequate level of care and attention that they need.

also, I'll point out that being pets has allowed many parrot species to have thriving populations that are not threatened by climate change, which is something to their benefit. given. you know. climate change. not that pet ownership is conservation, but, it's not that far removed from it - the axolotl population owes a lot to both pet ownership and zoo captivity, for example.

like, it's a spectrum, right? And it doesn't really go along with size, at the end of the day. There are tons of extremely neurotic and high needs small parrots, and many larger ones that are exceptionally chill. So while the vast majority of humans on this planet should not have a parrot, that's not all of them; and while the number that can handle higher maintenance ones is even smaller, its not zero. And I think, given the fact that we have all of these captive bred birds in the states at least, it's not a good idea to tell people that there is no way to ethically practice husbandry with them.

and I'm not the kind of person who assumes I know everything about someone's life in order to tell them "no you shouldn't bring home that cockatoo", so I'm not going to. In fact, I give everyone on the internet the benefit of the doubt if they have a parrot unless a) that parrot shows signs of distress (like plucking) or b) there is clearly something wrong going on (like someone's smoking weed around their bird)

so, no, there's no commonly kept (and thus domestically captive bred) bird I think is a bad pet for every single human on the planet. And it's not my business whether a particular individual should or should not have a particular bird.

[oneforblu]

kita shinsuke: the modern-day philosopher

one of my favorite things about haikyuu is how realistic the story is and how the messages can be applied to everyone. kita was one of the characters i felt impacted by. of course, many of the characters before kita's introduction impacted me, but kita's philosophy deeply affected me.

kita is a character who played the sport diligently but wasn't in it for the glory. although he was raised by his grandma's words, "someone's always watching," he isn't concerned about being praised by others. being able to do stuff the right way is enough for him. before kita, we've been introduced to many characters who are willing to do anything to win and continue playing volleyball in the future. kita isn't concerned about any of that. playing to the best of his abilities and doing it correctly is more than enough.

the importance of daily maintenance is something i will always think of when i see kita. he takes care of his body, cleans up, respects his traditions, and practices volleyball daily. it's a routine he follows every day without fail. to many, this seems tedious. doing the same thing everyday without a break? without fail? without anything to gain from it? most people wouldn't bother to use as much time and effort as kita does for no desired result. i'm one of the many that find it hard to keep up a routine, especially if it requires so much consistency and effort. but kita does it without complaint, without fail, and finds genuine joy in it.

but even though kita didn't care about people's approval, the moment he was offered the captain's jersey brought him to tears. whether he cared or not, his efforts to improve himself did not go unnoticed. all that time he spent cleaning, taking care of his body, honoring tradition, and practicing volleyball led to this moment. but kita never had a goal in mind. being chosen as captain is a high achievement, but kita didn't join the team to eventually have this honor. he did what he believed was the best thing to do, and being chosen as captain was simply the result of his effort.

this panel changed everything for me. i even used this as my college graduation quote because i have such a heavy attachment to this scene.

kita didn't do all his daily practices to gain anything. he did them because it felt right, doing his best no matter what was more important to him.

i have a habit of always determining my worth based on the results. if i don't get a good enough grade, i see my effort as useless; if i'm not praised for something, then i feel i'm not doing my best; if all my efforts don't give me the results i want, i see my time spent as wasted but reading this scene changed everything for me.

the time you spend bettering yourself is more valuable than a result. after all, the only reason you get a good result in the first place is because of your time and dedication to your work. even though kita was emotional about his hard work being seen and rewarded, his goal wasn't to become captain. at the end of the day, he spent all this time doing things for himself.

the little things I do every day might not be valuable in the grand scheme of things; the time I spend dedicating myself to anything makes me who I am. the small, everyday things make us who we are. we care for our bodies, study or work, unwind, and prepare meals for ourselves. It doesn't lead to anything extraordinary, but it does matter. it matters because it's who we are. every little thing we do is a part of us, and the good or bad things that come with it are simply the results of what we decide to do.

kita's philosophy of doing things right because it's the right thing to do is simple, yet it's one of the lessons of haikyuu that has stuck with me the longest. we, as people, believe we need to produce results that have meaning to us, but devoting ourselves to daily tasks is essential to who we are as people and how we live our lives. we do the things we do because they are necessary, and the outcomes that follow are just byproducts.

kita is such an important character to me, and I wish this rant could do him some justice. all in all, kita shinsuke, you are the greatest philosopher of our time.

[pensat-i-fet]

Not important enough (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**Another request I got a couple of weeks ago that really intrigued me when I first read it and I finally got what I thought was the right idea for it. I hope you enjoy a bit of angst and fluff on this lovely Sunday afternoon ❤️**

Word count: 2753

Masterlist

Wattpad

Your eyes hurt from staring at the laptop’s screen for too long so you took your glasses off to massage the inner corner of your eyes, trying to relieve some of the pressure building near the bridge of your nose.

“Take a break”, said Rúben but you shook your head while keeping your eyes closed. “Come on, don’t be stubborn. You won’t be able to work properly while your eyes are teary from how tired they are”.

“Are you the doctor now?”

“Yes, it’s Dr Dias’ advice to take a break”.

You chuckled seeing his serious face. He was definitely not a doctor but he was right. So you got up and walked to the kitchen to make a cup of tea that could help you wake up a little.

“I could make it for you”, offered your boyfriend.

“I appreciate it but you never get the milk ratio right. And you always forget the honey”.

His pouty face made you laugh again and you got up on your tiptoes to peck his lips.

“I still love you despite your inability to make good tea”.

“It’s just you being too complicated”.

“I prefer high maintenance. Sounds more expensive”.

Even though Rúben couldn’t make tea, he was very good at getting your favourite biscuits so you could have them with your cuppa.

“Thank you. I can’t even remember when I last ate”.

“You’re working too hard”.

“Well, this project won’t finish itself, sadly. But it’s almost done. And then we enjoy showing it off to the world”.

Rúben moved closer to wrap his arms around your waist. “Everyone will see how smart you are and I’ll have to fight them all off. As if being pretty wasn’t enough for you. No, you had to be a genius too”.

Laughing at his joke, you turned to face him. “Well, when they see you by my side, they’ll know to keep their distance”.

“See me?”

“Yeah, you’re coming to the presentation, right?”

“Why would I? I’m not a doctor”.

“I’m not a football player and I go to your matches”, you said, removing his arms from around your body.

“It’s not the same, you understand football and can enjoy it. What am I supposed to do at that presentation? I won’t get anything you all say. I’m a dummy”, he tried to joke but you weren’t in the mood for jokes.

“It’s not about understanding it, Rúben. It’s about supporting me like I support you”.

Grabbing your cup, you went back to your desk. You were fuming but didn’t want to argue more. You were exhausted from all the hard work your boyfriend didn’t even care about.

“Of course I support you. I spent the last week worried about you working too much, trying to get you to take breaks, worried about your health…”.

“Sorry to be such an inconvenience to you”.

“That’s not what I meant. I like being worried”, he groaned, realising he just kept saying the wrong thing. “I don’t like being worried but I like looking after you. I don’t mind. I just…”.

“You look after me for weeks but can’t spend two hours sitting on some comfortable chairs listening to me talk about something I’ve worked on for months”.

“I told you, I won’t understand a thing so it’d be boring for me…”.

“Boring? You think I enjoy seeing 6-0 wins against Nottingham Forest?”

“You’re missing my point”.

“I’m not missing any points, Rúben. I see this very clearly. I'm not important enough for you to make a small effort”.

He flinched at your tone. You didn’t raise your voice but he could hear the hurt you felt in every word.

"It's like you only care about my career because it makes you look good".

“What? What does that even mean?”

"Every video you do, every interview is the same. Look at me. I'm so smart and I date someone smart. I'm not going out with bimbos like all the others".

“That’s not what I’m doing”.

“You might not notice but it is. It seems to me that you talk more about my career with others than you do with me”.

"Is that how you feel?"

"Yes, sometimes it is. Right now, for example".

“I never meant to make you feel like that”, he says, his voice so low you could barely hear him.

“Yeah, well…but thank you for giving me an excuse to not go to your matches. I also find them very boring. But I’ll make sure to tell everyone I’m dating a footballer just to show off”.

Rúben was hurt by your words but cared more about how he had been hurting you by doing something he wasn’t even aware of, so he just left you to keep working. When you were angry, you needed time to cool down. So he would give you time.

But by the time he was getting ready for bed, you were still working and he didn’t know what to do. Normally, he would try to get you to stop working so you could rest. But now he feared another argument happening so he didn’t say anything.

The following morning, Rúben woke up and found your side of the bed was empty and it looked like you hadn’t slept there. That really worried him. He knew you were capable of staying up all night working. You told him about all the times you did that in uni during exams.

But you weren’t working. You were asleep… on the sofa. He shook his head, noticing your bad posture. Now you’d be angry at him and in pain. Great.

“Wake up”, he said gently, caressing your face.

“No”.

“If you want to sleep, you need to go to bed. Your back will kill you later for sleeping here”.

You finally turned to face him and he noticed the way you looked at him. No longer angry, but still hurt.

“What do I need to do so you forgive me? Name it and I will”.

“Too late to pretend you care, Rúben”, you said, getting up and going to your bed.

He followed you, but when he saw you cover your head with the blankets, he let you rest. There will be time to talk later.

                                       **

Bernardo worried seeing how weird his friend was behaving since he got to the training centre. He didn’t push him around once, so there was something wrong for sure.

“What’s going on?”, he asked, sitting next to Rúben, who had been staring at his phone for a while.

“Huh?”

“You’re acting weird. Everything alright?”

“Sure, other than the fact that my girlfriend doesn’t even want to speak to me because I’m an idiot”.

“What did you do?”

“She’s been working on this huge project for months and has to do a presentation next week”, he said, and Bernardo kept nodding to show he was listening. “And she thought I would go to the presentation but I didn’t expect her to invite me. I mean, that’s for doctors and such. I’m not smart enough to be there. So she got angry at me for not supporting her”.

“She’s got a point”.

Rúben sighed. “I know she does. But that’s not the worst thing. She thinks I only care about her career because it makes me look good to date a doctor. But that’s not true”.

“So”, said Bernardo, looking at Rúben’s phone. “Your solution to that is buying flowers? Really?”

Rúben locked his phone, annoyed at his inability to fix this. “It’s a start. She likes flowers”.

“I think what you two need to do is talk”.

Rúben knew his friend was right but still bought a bouquet of flowers on his way home. It couldn’t hurt, right?

“Hello?”

No response. Maybe you were out. That’d actually be good because you need the fresh air.

“Hi”, you said, taking your laptop from the kitchen to go back to your desk.

“You don’t need to hide from me”.

“I need silence to work. And are those for me?”

“Yes, I just thought it could cheer you up to see some fresh flowers. I got your favourites”.

“Thanks”, you said, but barely looked at the bouquet and went back to your desk.

Rúben knew he should allow you all the time you needed to stop being angry but he had to leave in two hours.

“Please, let’s just talk and fix this. I have to leave and I don’t want to be away from you knowing you’re mad at me”.

“We can talk when you come back from the match”.

At least you wanted to talk. “Ok. I’ll leave the tickets under your name like always…”.

“Don’t bother. I’m not going”.

“What do you mean you’re not going?”

“Too boring. And I have work to do”.

“But you’re always at my matches supporting me”.

“Yes, I know. I wish the support went both ways instead of being so one-sided”.

With that, you closed the door and Rúben knew there was nothing he could do. So he picked up his things and left. He could drive around the city for a couple of hours and try to relax. But the guilt didn’t allow him to do it.

You hated arguments. Always had. But arguments with Rúben hurt even more. Still…you were right to be angry. You were only asking for two hours of his time when you had spent God knows how many at matches. Even travelling to other countries to support him.

But then you went to the kitchen and saw the flowers and felt terrible for being so harsh. You could feel the tears in your eyes while you got the vase and placed the flowers there. He was trying but just didn’t understand why he had hurt you so much.

Somehow, you managed to sleep for a couple of hours. And when you woke up, you headed to the shower to get ready for the day. There was a lot of work that needed to be done. And then there was Rúben.

Rúben also only slept for a couple of hours, which wasn’t ideal before a match. But he couldn’t stop thinking about your argument. And knowing you weren’t going to be there supporting him really showed him how painful it must have been for you to hear he wouldn’t attend your presentation.

The match was thankfully pretty uneventful. Otherwise, he would have been in trouble because he hadn’t been able to concentrate properly at all. His teammates must have noticed how silent he was but didn’t say anything. They knew he didn’t take it well when his performance was subpar so they just assumed that was what was bugging him.

“Hi. Can you drive me home?”, he turned when he heard your voice and found you standing awkwardly. “I called an Uber to come to the stadium so…can I go back home with you?”

He nodded, not believing you were there. “I thought you weren’t coming to the match”.

“I’m always here to support you, Rúben. No matter how badly you mess up”.

He finally had a reason to smile and the smile only got bigger when you hugged him. “I don’t deserve you”.

“Don’t say that. And I’m sorry I was so mean to you but you really hurt me”.

“I know”, he said, moving back to look at you. “I get it. And I’m sorry. I’d love to go to that presentation even if I don’t understand anything. I want to support you, always”.

“You don’t have to…”.

“But I do. And…yes, you were right about me showing off how smart you are. But it’s not to pretend to be better than others. It’s just because I can’t believe someone as smart as you would want to be with an idiot like me who only knows how to kick a ball”.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You also know how to head a ball”, you joked, making him laugh. “You aren’t stupid, Rúben. I would never date someone stupid. I've got high standards”.

“I feel very stupid now”.

“Wait until you go to the presentation, then”.

                                     **

After months of hard work, it was time to show it to the world and you were absolutely terrified.

"Why are you staring at yourself like that?", asked Rúben when he got inside the room and saw you standing in front of the mirror, only wearing a towel after your shower.

"I forgot everything I've ever learnt".

"No, you haven't. Did you take something for your anxiety?"

When you shook your head, he went back to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and then took one of your tablets from the nightstand. You thanked him and took the tablet, letting out a big sigh afterwards.

"Need anything else?"

"No, I just have to get dressed and do my hair and makeup. Nothing too fancy. I won't take long".

You grabbed the clothes and went to the bathroom. And just twenty minutes later, you came out and Rúben couldn't stop staring at you.

"You look so sexy".

"I'm not supposed to look sexy, Rúben. I'm supposed to look professional".

You went back to the mirror to see your outfit again. Was the skirt too short? Should you do the top button of the blouse too?

"You look professional. But also sexy because you just can't help it".

That made you chuckle. "Heels or flats?"

"Heels and that skirt…".

"Rúben, you're drooling".

"And that's just from imagining it. When I see you actually wearing them, I'll need CPR. Thank God I live with a doctor".

You rolled your eyes and found the earrings you wanted to wear before putting on your heels.

"See? You didn't faint".

"No, but is this normal?", he asked, grabbing your hand and putting it on his chest so you could notice how fast his heart was beating, which only made you roll your eyes again.

"Let's go or we'll be late".

Only five minutes into the presentation, Rúben realized how wrong he had been. Boring? This topic was fascinating!

He actually enjoyed listening to the physios whenever they chatted with each other about the player's injuries. Even if he didn't understand many words they said. But he made himself feel better thinking he probably knew them in Portuguese but not in English.

By the time you were done with the presentation, he was even more impressed by how smart you were. And you always played it down saying you just knew the same as every doctor but Rúben could hear other people whispering about how brilliant your presentation was so he knew that brain of yours was very special.

Everyone stood to applaud you and your colleagues but no one did as enthusiastically as Rúben. Actually, one of the men on his right looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"She's my girlfriend", he said, pointing at the stage.

The only boring part was having to wait for you by the car. So many people wanted to talk to you and congratulate you…but Rúben just wanted to get his girlfriend back.

"Finally!", you said, approaching the car and taking your shoes off.

"You were so brilliant!", said Rúben, lifting you in his arms and spinning you around. "Everyone talked about how good your research was. You should have heard them. And you looked so good too. My extremely smart and sexy doctor".

You were still laughing when he finally put you back down. "I take it wasn't boring then".

"Boring? I have so many questions. Let's get in the car and you can start answering them. That last bit about the muscle tissue blew my mind".

"I'm a bit tired of talking. Could we leave the questions for tomorrow?"

Rúben realized how exhausted you looked and nodded. "Sure, whenever you can and want".

You got into the car and closed your eyes, trying to calm down after such an intense event.

"But just one thing. That first procedure you explained, could it be applied to athletes too? I think our doctors would love to hear your presentation".

Opening your eyes, you turned your head to look at your boyfriend. And you couldn't help but smile at him and his excitement. "Do you want me to do the presentation again but for them?", you laughed.

"Only if I get to be there. I'll bring a notebook to take notes and everything".

"Don't worry. I heard you're sleeping with the professor, I'm sure she'll let you borrow her notes".

[4kirijo]

.... my lovely lifesaver

♡ ྀི༘͏ bodyguard! blade x affluent progeny! reader :3

this was barely proofread. it's nearly 4 am omg. anyways. i thought of "ridin" by lana del ray nd asap rocky as well as "genesis" by grimes while writing :3

no content warnings, fluff ^_^

odd jobs were not blade's thing.

he preferred things to be simple and less involved. an assassination or a scheme to overthrow a planet's leader were more up his alley.

not taking care of the child belonging to an affluent family.

your concerned relatives had gone through a long list of potential candidates to work as your bodyguard, and somehow stumbled across him. despite his reluctance, blade begrudgingly accepted the offer. the pay was generous, exceedingly so.

he hadn't expected to grow fond of you over the coming months. in fact, he dreaded the idea of his job. being the babysitter for a high maintenance progeny was the last thing he expected, and acting as another parental figure for them was something that blade wasn't cut out for. such things plagued the back of his mind, even if he didn't want to admit it.

however, you weren't like the person in his expectations, keeping him up from the much needed sleep he required.

you were much benign than what he believed, shockingly so. from the outside, you were nothing more than a privileged heir, blessed to be born with a silver spoon in their mouth, and prone to bad behavior. yet--- when he gave his first greetings, your responses would always be quiet and respectful.

he'd always be treated to a curt nod, a soft hum, and a gentle smile. those gestures of yours felt sweet to blade, akin to the taste of raw honey. perhaps you were that polite to everyone, it was the more rational answer to explain your behavior. however, he couldn't help but want your attention to be on him only.

often times, he'd find himself observing every curve, furrow, and flaw in your delicate features (when you weren't looking, of course. he couldn't allow himself to be obvious, it would shatter his dignity).

during his more restless nights, he'd ponder how receiving your affection would feel. could it be apple-sweet like fleeting touches and longing gazes? or would it be similar to tasting an orange? a mix of cheeky kisses and tender declarations of love?

questions about you tend to take center stage in blade's mind nowadays. was his performance good enough yesterday? did you notice him staring at your visage for a second too long? are you one for acts of service? or do you prefer to be more physical with of affect---

"....... blade, are you listening?" you quietly asked him, tilting your head.

despite being caught off guard by your sudden remark, blade attempted to mask his scrutinizing glance at you with his usual stoic demeanor.

"hm? could you repeat that again for me, please?"

your eyebrows furrowed at his perplexity (he'll have that image of your pretty expression burned into his mind for days), yet you continued your thought once more-- albeit with some exasperation.

"i asked if you'd like to continue our outing, you seem awfully tired, blade. i don't want to burden you further."

he quickly replied to your concerned question, "i appreciate your concern, but i'm fine. i can handle a few more hours of shopping."

blade was lying. but, admitting his fatigue felt like a blow to their happiness, and-- he couldn't say 'no' to fixating over their expressions.

"mm, are you sure that we shouldn't call it a day? ....... i don't wanna put extra stress on you." you couldn't help but respond to his dismissal with a bit more concern than before.

although it was quite bothersome to have someone be so considerate of his wellbeing after years of independency, blade found your words to be endearing. the sweet sugar cookie scented perfume emanating from you didn't help quell his overwhelming feelings either.

"..... no, let's keep shopping. i insist."

blade was enamored with you, to a pathetic extent. it bothered him to hell and back. but--- he couldn't imagine himself anywhere other than standing near you, longingly watching your every move, all while protecting you from the cruel world.

a/n: i hope ppl enjoy this !!!!!! it's my first fanfic :3 um its so hot. i hate sumemr. bye.

[liisims]

Zodiac Legacy Challenge

Welcome to the Zodiac Legacy Challenge for The Sims 4. This challenge was created entirely by me, @liisims, with the help of information from the internet and inspiration from the people around me. The challenge is based on the 12 zodiac signs, with each generation representing one zodiac sign.

Rules:

- Play with a normal lifespan.

- While I don’t recommend using money cheats, it’s up to you.

- The heir can be any gender (for simplicity, a female heir is used as an example).

- Complete the aspiration, max out the career, and achieve the max level in all listed skills unless instructed otherwise.

- Utilize the specified traits; their order doesn’t matter.

- The suggested number of children is a guideline, reflecting my vision for each generation. It’s not obligatory; feel free to interpret it as you wish.

- If you share anything related to the challenge (screenshots, gameplay, etc.) on Tumblr, use the hashtag #zodiacliisims , and tag me @liisims.

I recommend reading at least one generation ahead before starting the challenge. For instance, if you’re currently on generation 1, make sure to familiarize yourself with the rules and description for both generation 1 and 2. This is particularly helpful as it often provides insights into how the generations grow up. Ofcourse, how you play is entirely up to you!

My love for challenges started by watching Clare Siobhan play the amazing not so berry challenge from @lilsimsie and @alwaysimming . When I looked more into other challenges I realized I wanted to create my own, and well here I am now! Sharing my first challenge. Before creating this challenge I made sure to look at no other zodiac inspired challenge as I wanted it to be 100% my own. Disclaimer: this is based on some things from the internet and people I know irl. Take it with a grain of salt! Enjoy!

Generation One: Aries

You’re a career driven overachiever. You love fitness, like LOVE. You can barely go a day without some physical activity. Your love life is a mess, you go from partner to partner and rush into things way too quick. People either really like you or they really don’t, it’s probably cause of your strong personality.

Traits: Self-Assured, Outgoing, Active

Aspiration: Super Parent

Career: Law (Branch of your choice)

Skills: Research and Debate, Fitness, Parenting

Children: 3 (Each child with a different partner)

Generation Two: Taurus

You’re a stubborn homebody. You prefer staying in for the night rather than going out. Growing up your mom always took very well care of you. However, you were just really stubborn and did not listen very often. You do really love your friends and family, as keeping good relationships with them is very important to you.

Traits: Loyal, Erratic, Goofball

Aspiration: Neighborhood Confidante

Career: Freelancer (Branch of your choice)

Skills: Charisma, Comedy

Children: 1

Generation Three: Gemini

You’re the “perfect” daughter. You always listen to your parents, until…. you become a teenager. You start to rebel, and your relationships with family and friends slowly weakens. Once you become a young adult you try your best to make up for it. You discover you actually are outgoing and decide to become a ‘youtuber’.

Traits: Outgoing, High Maintenance, Perfectionist

Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy

Career: Videomaker, use ‘The more views video station’. (This isn’t an actual career on the list.)

Skills: Production, Charisma

Children: Twins

Generation Four: Cancer

You’re an ambitious gardener. You really love growing plants, but you also love eating them! You grew up in quite a chaotic household. Your family could be pretty overwhelming sometimes. You’d be full of anger. So you would find peace in caring for plants. That’s where your passion for gardening began.

Traits: Hot-headed, Vegetarian, Ambitious

Aspiration: Freelance Botanist

Career: Gardener (Branch of your choice)

Skills: Gardening, Logic or Flower Arranging (This depends on which branch you choose in the career.)

Children: 2

Generation Five: Leo

You’re the center of attention. Or atleast that’s what you always want to be. Dating a lot, and then secretly destroying love life’s will definitely get you attention. Just seems like a easy way to go then, right?

Traits: Romantic, Self-absorbed, Cheerful

Aspiration: Villainous Valentine

Career: Critic (Branch of your choice)

Skills: Writing, Charisma

Children: 4

Generation Six: Virgo

You’re a wellness-obsessed neat freak. Seeing your mom cause so much mayhem in others lives growing up, you just really wanted to bring them peace. You discovered you love wellness. As well as helping other people! You can get quite jealous though when co-workers try to steal your clients…

Traits: Neat, Jealous, Family oriented

Aspiration: Self-care Specialist

Career: You won’t have an in game career. You will just go to the spa and host classes, give massages, etc. This is because there isn’t an actual wellness career.

Skills: Wellness, Cooking

Children: 1

Generation Seven: Libra

You’re an indecisive music lover. You had a great relationship with your mom, she decided everything for you. So now you really struggle with making firm decisions. But there is one thing you’re sure of… you LOVE music. The right music just makes you wanna dance your feet off.

Traits: Dance machine, Noncommittal, Good

Aspiration: Musical Genius

Career: Entertainer (Musician branch)

Skills: Comedy (level 3), Piano, Guitar or Violin (level 8)

Children: 3

Generation Eight: Scorpio

You’re a passionate foodie. You love food, but it has to be of best quality. When you were younger your mom made lovely home-cooked meals. Which is where your passion for cooking began. Once a teenager you took over this job from your mom every now and then. Until you realized, this was the way to go for you!!

Traits: Snob, Overachiever, Clumsy

Aspiration: Master Chef

Career: Culinary (Chef branch)

Skills: Cooking, Gourmet cooking

Children: 2

Generation Nine: Sagittarius

You’re a true bookworm. You’ve always been very book smart. Even though your mom really wanted you to become a master chef just like her. You’ve got a blunt tongue and made clear that wasn’t the direction you wanted to go. She did pass down one thing though. Her love for food, hence why you are also a big foodie.

Traits: Bookworm, Childish, Foodie

Aspiration: Nerd Brain

Career: Education (Branch of your choice)

Skills: Research and Debate, Comedy, Logic

Children: 4

Other: Must adopt 1 child.

Generation Ten: Capricorn

You’re a self-challenging oddball. You love creating challenges for yourself. You’ve always been extremely socially awkward. So what better career choice then to become a politician. You’re very ambitious, so you try your hardest to persevere every challenge.

Traits: Socially awkward, Ambitious, Genius

Aspiration: Inner Peace

Career: Politician (Branch of your choice)

Skills: Charisma, Wellness

Children: 2

Generation Eleven: Aquarius

You’re an innovative helper. You have a very creative way of thinking, and coming up with solutions. Which is why you are so good at being a doctor! You don’t show it often, but you really love helping other people. You truly value being in the company of others.

Traits: Creative, Proper, Squeamish

Aspiration: Neighborhood Confidante

Career: Doctor

Skills: Logic, Handiness

Children: 1

Generation Twelve: Pisces

You’re a sensitive soul. You love outing your emotions in art. Growing up your mom was always very supportive of you and your dreams. She did her best to support you in every way she could. You’re a people person and very easily influenced by the people and their emotions around you.

Traits: Gloomy, Art lover, Good

Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire

Career: Painter (Branch of your choice)

Skills: Painting

Children: 4

I’ve been working on this challenge a while. So I’m super excited to finally share it!! Have fun!

[sosuigeneris]

Socialite Series: Cherry’s Master Post

Things that have helped me, that could help you. Here is a master list of my softmaxxing journey!

Body:

J*hn Bent*n’s workouts: Yes he’s an asshole but his workouts really do work. He used to train models and his workouts are life changing.

2. B-12 Lipo salines: These you can consume in a shot (like an injection) or in a saline (go to a GOOD DOCTOR for this). I prefer the saline, and my doctor recommended the 6 week course for me (one saline every week). It burns subQ fat and that was the main reason why I began using those. There is zero side effect to these, acc to my doc.  edit: don’t really recommend these anymore. I’ll update this list when I finish my Emsculpt.

3. Diet: More protein, more vegetables, more water and lesser intake of carbs. Carbs are important but i used to over-consume them. Cutting down has helped me a lot. I also did a gut bacteria test (you basically sent a piece of your shit to a lab and they analyse it) to understand what foods worked for me and what didnt. 

4. Probiotics for metabolism management 

5. Measuring: I stopped tracking weight and began tracking body fat % instead. I feel that this works better for me. 

6. Wood therapy: I KNOW. You lot will think its bogus but it helped me and im sticking to it, so there. There’s no wood therapy spa near me, so i ordered the wood therapy tools from amazon, plastic wrap, a waist trainer, almond oil. I looked up videos on wood therapy and lymphatic drainage, and i do it for about 5 mins on my tummy and thighs before my work outs, wrap my torso with plastic wrap, throw the waist trainer on top. 

✨

Skin:

Accutane: this helped me tremendously with my acne and my skin is 95% blemish free now. If you are taking this, remember to be disciplined and regular. 

Zero alcohol: I stopped drinking completely and its done my skin and health wonders.

Products: Sunscreen + Vitamin C combo in the AM. Retinol + moisturiser at night. Recommended by my dermat. 

Hair removal: I refuse to shave because its so uncomfortable so i prefer to wax once in 2 months. Personally, when I began exfoliating my body twice a week - I use a scrub by the Body Shop - I noticed that the hair was growing back slower than it used to. I use a loofah for everyday too. I don’t believe in laser because it’s never just 6 sessions; you do have to have “maintenance��� sessions as well post the 6.

Face sculpting: Gua sha on alternative nights. I dont know if this works or is placebo, but I felt like it did. 

Body lotion every day. Twice a day sometimes. I swear, it makes you smell good and feel so soft. 

Expensive make up: specially, foundation. I’m sorry, i know this could be controversial. But idk what cow semen Charlotte Tilbury puts in her make up, it seriously makes me glow. I’m yet to find a good drug store alternative. A while back, I stopped wearing concealer, and I began using a lighter shade of CT’s foundation as concealer over my normal shade. I feel that because the products are chemically the same, they blend better and don’t react and “peel.” Highly recommend that too. For the rest of my face like powder, blush, eyeliner, I do use normal drug store make up.  

✨

Oral hygiene:

I used to have braces. After taking them off, I noticed a difference in my jaw.

Brush, floss, Listrine, tongue cleaner

Mild whitening. I think Hollywood level teeth whitening looks crazy and I want to look as “naturally” beautiful as possible.

✨

Hair care:

For hair growth: as recommended by my doc: minoxidil hair foam 5% w/w Tugain Foam.

High frequency wand before wash days on my scalp. 

Moroccan hair oil. I use a tiny amount everyday on my ends after I finish my make up for the day and I swear it makes my hair shine like crazy.

I also got hair Botox done because i used to have curly but absolutely unmanageable hair. I tried to make it work for years but i gave up and caved in to having permanent straight hair and I love it. 

I only shampoo twice a day so on days when i workout but don’t shampoo, i use hair perfume. I spray some of it on my brush and run it through my hair. I swear it works. 

✨

Overall:

The colour palette theory seriously works. I didn’t realise that wearing the right colours can impact you so much.

Confidence is absolutely key. I seriously recommend going to a group class of some sort if you have the time and just mingling with random people. Social situations are important to gauge your “standing.”

Random but if you have a big nose: grow out your eyebrows / fill them in slightly thicker. I noticed that when I had thin eyebrows, my nose would stand out more but when I made them thicker, it balanced my face out better. 

Steam iron your clothes before you wear them. You will look 100% put together. 

*IF* you’re aesthetically challenged when it comes to picking clothes, use my rule of thumb: never wear any more than 3 colours at once  (remember: IF you can’t put outfits together). 

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

Hiii, I'm back to do regular pick-a-pile readings! In todays reading I am working with Apollo to send the collective this message. Take what resonates and leave behind anything that doesn't. Thank you all 🩵 -ghost

PILE ONE

Crystal: Yellow Aventurine

Astrology: Leo, Sagittarius, Scorpio, Gemini

🧡💛🌻🍯🥮🥧🏺🔑🌟💫☀️🦂💰👘🧶🎃🤬🚼☣️📙🏮🏵️🥉🏑🍺🍹🍊🍋

Hello, pile one! I see you have been looking for your intuition. You have been searching high and low. Purchasing all manner of metaphysical assistance. You seem to think you aren’t powerful. You believe you are simple and small. My friend you are very mistaken. Your third eye is open and active. There are two thing about intuition that I had to learn that I will now teach you. The first thing is that you must trust yourself. Activating your intuition is only one step in the journey. The second thing is that you must be grounded to be able to use your intuition. This lesson I’m still learning. You must establish yourself to yourself to make any progress. I see you crave progress over everything else. Focus on who you are and focus on trusting the person you are. You have done good work so far. The journey is just a little different than what you expected. You can’t escape yourself in spirituality. Forgetting who you are is much more counter intuitive than you might believe.

PILE TWO

Crystal: Tigers Eye

Astrology: Pisces, Cancer, Taurus, Libra

💚🫛🥒🍀🐉🪲👒🪖🔫♻️🥗🥬🍃🦚🐍🐢🪀🧩⛰️🔋🪛✅📗🏡🚛🏄🏿‍♂️

Hi there, pile two! You have been looking for a battle to wage. You have had to fight a lot in your life. You have probably been fighting since you were a child. You fought so hard back then. You are blinded by the war you fought, my friend. You have aleady won your war. The enemy is defeated and yet you still look for the next flying fist to dodge. You cannot fight anymore. There is no one to battle. There is a new goal you must strive for. You have been such a strong soldier for a long time. Now that it is done you must rest. You must heal. You must clean your wounds and take the medicine required to get better. You have suffered enough. After war, when soldiers come home, it is understandable that they might not know how to come down from shellshock. They might have gotten physical or mental wounds that are in need of proper care and attention. It is time to learn to cope and learn how to fill you cup. I must reiterate, you fight is over. Your war is finished. You are safe. You have been grasping for safety while clinging to your violence. They cannot exist in tandum. Please sleep, my dear soldier. Please. Once you decide the war is over in your mind you will be able to finally relax. You will find things you enjoy. You will share peaceful moments with yourself again.

PILE THREE

Crystal: Black Tourmaline

Astrology: Aries, Capricorn, Virgo, Aquarius

❤️‍🩹🩶🏓🍉🦴🍚🍓🌹🐚🐁🐓🎒🧣⛑️💃🏼💋💯🗞️🔍💌📮🧲🪓⏰🚢🥁🎸⚾️🥡🥢🎂

Hi, pile three! Welcome to your reading. You have been carrying the weight of the world in your arms and I know you hate to admit it but you are tired. You are only one person. I understand you have needed to be independent. I understand you have been searching for help but my dear you have been refusing it at every opportunity. Your friends are here for you and you won’t open up. They are knocking at your door. They are asking to see you and love you. You seem to believe accepting their help makes you weak. Darling, that is not the case. You are human. You are not a machine and honestly even if you were machines need maintenance. Machines can’t always self-maintenance. You need help and you want it. Please accept it the next time it comes around. I see you might have some religious trauma or some kind of self-sacrificing wound. You are not a tool. You are not livestock. You are not alone. Humans are evolutionarily not solitary creatures. They need companionship. Humans are pack animals which means they need other humans. Every instance when a human is left completely alone usually the human goes insane. Talk about your hardships with your friends. Release some of what you are carrying on your shoulders. Let go of the mindset that you must sacrifice your mind or your body to be considered a good or successful human. You are already a good human without over-exerting yourself.

[russadler]

Hi hello dear!

Do you have any hc of Adler if he had a pet? (Could be any kind of pet!) I love domestic hc 😭❤️

okay i’m so glad you asked because I am VERY passionate about this subject thank u

russell adler pet headcanons 🐾

You always hear the saying that goes something along the lines of “There’s nothing more special than a boy and his dog.” and that’s the kind of relationship Adler had with his childhood dog.

He had a childhood dog that he really saw as his best friend when he was really, really young (I’d say from age 6 to about maybe age 12) like that!!! that was his buddy!!!

The breed was something pretty typical for a well to do American family at the time — like a Golden Retriever or Labrador Retriever but definitely a medium to large breed for sure.

When that dog passed he was pretty devastated and his parents decided not to get another for various reasons, but that dog left an impression on him for the rest of his life.

For the very brief period of time that he considered having a family, he always imagined a dog of a similar breed/type in the picture. It was a VERY important part of the family dynamic for him.

He and his ex-wife did end up getting a Labrador puppy, probably in a desperate bid to make her happy when things were getting rocky, but it just wasn’t the same.

He was rarely home, and barely saw either of them. It ended up becoming a sad reminder of the state of their marriage. The dog ended up providing more comfort and companionship to her than he ever did.

When they divorced, she took the dog with her and he hasn’t seen it since, but Adler still thinks of him time and hopes he had a good life with his ex.

He recognizes after his divorce that having a pet was unrealistic. He was never home, and their would be no one to take care of it. It would be unfair to subject any animal to that.

As Adler grows older though he very much comes to enjoy the company of cats, probably equal to or even more so than dogs. He appreciates their independence and the quiet company they provide.

Will definitely stop and pet stray animals if he’s not actively on a mission, but lowkey does it in secret because he doesn’t want people he’s a softie.

He’s a bit more wary of dogs though due to the fact that they get used for guard/attack work a lot, but cats? Adler will for sure stop and pet them, especially if they ask for pets!

Did I mention he becomes more of a cat guy once he gets older? Because at a certain point as much as he loves dogs he only really sees himself having a cat in his home.

There’s a lovely stray tomcat that wanders on to his property in Langley that he begrudgingly becomes pals with but he refuses to take in.

Makes a pact with the old lady next door to make sure it gets fed and taken care of when he’s not around. Even gets it neutered and vaccinated so the cat stops getting into fights with other tomcats and so he won’t catch any diseases.

Refuses to acknowledge it as his cat though (He secretly names it “Bud” or something along those lines) but also doesn’t say anything when the old lady next door calls it his cat.

Greets ‘Bud’ every time he comes home from a deployment.

Anything apart from a dog or a cat he doesn’t see himself owning. Things like birds or reptiles he honestly doesn’t entirely understand and are very high maintenance, but if he had a partner that owned either I think he’d learn to love them in his own way.

A bit weirded out by the concept of owning something like a snake or a spider, but would keep a respectful distance and diligently take care of them if asked by his partner (he values anything his partner does as if it were his own)

Is also the typical ‘I didn’t want this pet but I will become best friends with it’ guy.

I could literally talk about Adler and animals all day this is literally pandora’s box

[cobra-creampuff]

i don't remember what it is in canon and i haven't made it there again yet on the rewatch BUT. i always like... idk if i really had this interpretation of the text or whatever, but i like to THINK that when ian was away between s3 and s4 he didn't stay local or even nearby the whole time. i like to think he really traveled around a lot and like obviously a lot of that time was really very bad and he was in a bad place and doing dangerous things with dangerous people, but some of the time it was good! some of the time he made real friends who cared about him, some of the time he had real fun that wasn't a mania or drug high or solely for avoidance's sake, some of the time he learned new things and had new experiences and so on.

but anyway sometimes. i also like to think about a canon divergence where maybe in the middle of this, ian meets a psychiatrist or a counselor or a neurology professor or a mental health crisis responder or maybe a foreshadowy emt or some other kind of guy who would be able to correctly recognize many of ian's symptoms and who would be confident enough about his opinion and skilled enough at de-escalation to bring it up with him without scaring him off right away.

he met this guy at a bar or a party or through a friend or whatever, and he tried to seduce him, but the guy is miraculously not a fucking pervert freak shitheel unlike most of the men ian has met in his life and won't sleep with an underage kid. no, ian, not even an underage kid who is barely even underage. no, ian, not even an underage kid who's birthday could theoretically be tomorrow because actually an eighteen year old is still too young for him.

and ian has decided to take this as a challenge and has been staying with him, and the guy chose his field and profession in it for a reason, you know, he's a helper, and he really means it, so he's letting ian stay without rent or favor and he's trying to help him more on top of that too. (and at first probably ian is just convincing himself he's taken getting turned down as a challenge, though he is genuinely convinced the guy is attracted to him no matter what he says - which is maybe not totally untrue, but also he really is just a kid to this guy so it's more like a 'wow he's going to grow up hot and he's already on his way there' kind of thing - but he's really subconsciously latching onto this guy for a fucking break because he's been mattress surfing for his living space for months and honestly even while he was manic and hypersexual it was getting exhausting if only because not everyone you go home with when you go home with someone every night is going to be someone you'll actually be good in bed with and anyway maybe just maaaayyyybe he's starting to miss staying in one place for more than a week.)

ian met him at the tail end of a manic phase, when he was still way up there but it was fading off and he was getting tired. and i know in canon he had to have been gone for less than 9 months, but for this it kind of has to be longer even though he's almost certainly rapid cycle - wait nevermind i just looked it up and apparently rapid cycle is "4 or more cycles in a one year period" so that's one of each phase every three fucking months my GOD (but also rapid cycling usually isn't permanent so at least there's that, but still. goddamn). fucking shit man, in 9m ian could have cycled 3 entire times, provided he has very short maintenance phases if any while unmedicated. jesus. okay well. where was i.

oh right, okay. okay, so ian is at the tail end of his third manic phase of this period (which is about at the 9m mark, so i am still extending his period of absence beyond what it was in canon a bit) when he meets this guy. and he's done this twice now, and the first time he was half lucky half not and he'd already had someone he was welcome to stay with for a little while when this happened so he was housed and fed (inasmuch as he would eat the food he had access to) and that for at least part of the depressive phase before that person got sick of him and dumped him at a shelter like a pound puppy they changed their mind about. but the second time he wasn't lucky at all and didn't have anything lined up, and he ended up on the street and he's highkey refusing to look back on it but if he did he'd probably have to conclude that he only survived that because of other unhoused people helping him out as much as they could and the miracle of mild, dry weather the whole time.

all that to say, while he is absolutely camped out on the treacherous muddy river banks of denial about it, he does know what's coming and he knows he needs to find someone with a lot of hospitality for him to take advantage of and he needs to find them really fucking fast because he could have a whole week left or he could go down overnight. so he meets this guy, and he's hot enough that ian would like fucking him now and won't rather kill himself than let him do whatever later, and he looks like he has money, and he's familiar with the place they're at or maybe even knows the server/cashier/whatever so he probably lives around here, and he's charming and polite and kind in the few casual unglamorous ways you can see a person be when they're a stranger in a public space which really say more about a guy than grand gestures anyway. he's basically a first choice option, so because of the time constraint and because he doesn't want to have to take a downgrade, ian's approach is maybe a little bit- well. i won't say desperate because this is my precious baby i'm talking about here, but you can go ahead and think it for yourselves. quietly.

and the guy turns him down for sex, turns him down for a date, sees through all of ian's attempts to feign interest in anything he might need or want the guy's help or input on, like say attending the university he teaches at if he's the neurology professor or writing an article for a made up publication about ways to handle a crisis situation without calling 911 (and why you'd want to) if he's the mental health responder or the emt, etc. so ian is giving up, and he's having a pretty hard time not losing his temper about it, and he's having a pretty hard time not feeling genuinely rejected even though he knows they both know his ulterior motives were a higher priority than real attraction on his own part, and he's having a pretty hard time not getting really really really scared about what if the next guy says no too and the one after that and the one after that and he either has to settle for someone who will hurt him or what if he just dumps himself at the shelter but they won't take him either or he wears out his welcome there too or what if- so it's really very obvious how upset he is, and it's really very obvious it's not hurt feelings or bruised ego at being turned down. and ian is charming and polite and kind in all the ways that indicate a stranger is kind, and he's just a fucking kid, so the guy says listen. i'll buy you lunch - it's not a date! - and if you need a place to stay, i have plenty of room.

and also okay let's say. they have lunch, and over lunch they discuss the specifics. the guy does indeed have money, and he's single - not married! ian kinda wants him lol - and he also owns his own practice or for whatever other reason has a really nice private office that he's allowed to do whatever the fuck he wants with an no one else ever needs to use. so ian can stay at his house with him if he wants, where there's more space and it might be a little more comfortable physically speaking, but where the guy will be all the time and will have habits and guests and other things that might bother or be bothered by ian. or ian can stay at his office, where it's smaller and doesn't have, you know, amenities, but ian will have it all to himself for the bulk of the time, with the guy only coming and going for a few hours here or there on weekday afternoons.

and like i said. ian is getting tired. it's not just that the mania is fading, not this time. he's kind of getting a little sick of the lifestyle. it's exhausting, even when technically his energy is endless. and he's... maybe starting to feel just a little bit bad about himself, and then he feels bad for feeling bad because he's not doing anything wrong, and every now and then the drugs and the sex and the travel and the dancing and the club lights and the interesting new people that ian doesn't have to love and all the other things and even the dissociation and hysterical optimism on the upswing can't keep out a tiny but persistent little trickle of regret as some of the consequences for a few particular big decisions start to slowly, piece by piece, sink in. so even though he is, allegedly, trying to seduce this guy, he picks the office.

so he gets set up with a sheet tucked around the couch cushions, pillow, blanket. guy tells him the address, leaves a piece of mail in case ian forgets with a bunch of takeout menus ("old fashioned," ian flirts, gesturing to his smartphone and its location services and doordash app). he finishes out his last few days of mania crashing back to the office in the wee hours of morning, then spending the days really giving his all into getting this guy to sleep with him when he comes around to do whatever he does here for work. no dice, but the guy mostly just seems amused with him, and he's kept every word so far, so ian keeps himself from getting anxious about it sometimes with drugs and sometimes with giving it a rest and just genuinely getting to know the guy. and it's actually pretty nice.

then the depression hits, and ian hates himself and everything he's ever done. he would never have made it in the army anyway and he couldn't have gotten into college either and now he's an unfeeling junkie whore and he'll never be anything else. his siblings will never forgive him and mickey hates him and mandy's already forgotten about him and nobody else ever loved him because he didn't give them any reason to. they all deserve to live without him, and he deserves to die without them. and he doesn't eat and he doesn't shower and it should be easy to sleep after he can't even remember now how long he was up especially when he's so exhausted it actually physically hurts but he doesn't sleep either.

and the guy realizes maybe not exactly what's up, as in 'this kid has rapid cycle bipolar type 2', because diagnosis is complicated and takes time and shouldn't be done by anyone who isn't both trained and asked to do it. but he does realize ian wasn't the way he was because of the drugs and he's not like this now because of drugs either, and he also is informed enough about these things to know what's up beyond that more than just 'something is wrong with him'. at first all he does to help is get some immediate needs met. he sets out clean replacement bedding within ian's arms reach so if ian gets struck at some point by the inspiration to change them out he won't have to do any extra work and might be able to actually do it. he gets a bunch of nonperishable single serving finger foods, meal replacement drinks, bottled water, and leaves those within reach too. he opens and closes the curtains when he comes and goes, so that ian can get a little bit of sun but won't be bothered by the light when he can't get up and close them himself. unfortunately he can't move the bathroom closer to the couch, but when ian sometimes has to make use of one of the empty water bottles, the guy disposes of them for him without a word. he makes sure he doesn't leave anything in the office that could be easily used to seriously hurt oneself. he spends more time there just in case.

eventually it passes, and ian climbs out of it - though at a much more gradual rate than he dropped from mania. when ian gets close enough to sea level to start trying to apologize, that's when the guy makes the first attempt to talk about the situation. obviously that goes poorly, but it could have gone worse. he leaves it be there, but he does start picking strategic books off his shelf, sitting on the couch with ian (companionship is helpful, and also it forces ian to at least partly sit up), reading them a bit (he doesn't pretend; it's always good to refresh the info), and then 'forgetting' to put them away.

there's no tv in the office, you see. and there's only so fucking much you can do to entertain yourself on a smartphone (if you don't read fanfiction lmao). no mobile game or social media site can fill the hours of every single day for weeks on end. so. ian reads the books. and he learns some things from them that still definitely for sure do not apply to him, but are good to know, you know, as like general knowledge. or in case monica comes back. (it doesn't occur to him to think in case one of his siblings ends up having it; he knows it's him, and according to the stats he'll most likely be the only one. it also doesn't occur to him that he wouldn't already be back first when monica hypothetically showed up again.)

after a certain amount of books, the guy tries bringing it up again. ian still brushes him off, but not quite so firmly. he leaves it be again.

soon enough ian gets all the way back up. he knows he's "normal" again by how it feels inside his head, even though he is of course still exhausted, sad, and lonely. he goes back to flirting with the guy, but there's no intent behind it now and they both know it, which is the only reason the guy finally starts flirting back. it's just for fun. he's still hot as fuck, hotter now than when ian first met him really, but whatever attraction ian had before is pretty dead now. he doesn't think friendship would work out real well for them either, to be honest. even not accounting for age and all the other vast expansive differences they have with, as far as ian knows, having the same sex and orientation being the only thing they do have in common, there's also the part where this guy was a total stranger when he threw out ian's piss bottles for him. that's just a very strange - and, for ian personally, kind of humiliating - starting point for anything.

but speaking of things that are kind of humiliating... the more time ian spends around this guy in a stable and rational state of mind, the more he realizes he's ian's type. ian's real type that is (as opposed to his opportunistic and/or strategic type). he's got dark hair that cuts a striking contrast against his pale skin, with some silver mixed in. blue eyes. not the kind you'd describe as "baby blues". icy blue, maybe, even when they're not cold. clear and piercing. sharp nose, elegant neck, broad shoulders. plush lips for a white guy, with a kiss hidden at the corner like wendy darling. smaller than ian but he'd be in the same weight class; it shows when he takes off his blazer, when he rolls his sleeves up to the elbow. he flirts like it's a fight he's already winning, but he'll happily throw it if you can manage to get a hit on him. ian's in a similar spot this guy is about him now. it'd be like meeting your boyfriend's dad if your boyfriend's dad was hot and not a worthless evil scumbag; you're not attracted to him, but someday you'll be attracted to someone who looks just like him.

once ian finally lets himself think about mickey, he can't stop from thinking about everyone else too. he's exhausted, sad, and lonely, and he misses them so much, and he doesn't want this to be his life. he wants to go home.

the only problem is... he's in fucking. kansas city or something idk. he's in kansas city, broke, and a fucking mess. he could make his way back to chicago the same way he got here, but that would take a long time and a lot of doing things he just doesn't fucking want to do right now, or ever again. at least that's how he feels about it at the moment.

he could call fiona. he could call lip. he knows he could, and either one of them, or fucking both of them probably, they'd instantly drop fucking everything and drive all the way here in the fucking ice cream truck to come get him. but they'd know. they're going to have to know anyway, eventually, but he's still pretending he doesn't, and they wouldn't pretend shit. or if they did they'd be ass at it. they'd see him and they'd know and they would start dreading the next time he leaves, the next time he needs them to deadlift him off of rock bottom, right then and there.

he could call mandy. she probably couldn't get to him herself, not without help, but she would figure something out if he really needed her to. she wouldn't know. but she'd ask. she'd see him huddled up under a pile of stinking dirty blankets on a stranger's office couch, in equally dirty clothes, limp hair, pale with dark circles, too thin, not yet a year after he said he was obliging himself to the united states government for four. she'd ask, and he wouldn't tell her, and they'd both hate it. and besides which, she can really only get the help from strangers ian couldn't stand seeing him like this, or lip. or mickey.

he could call mickey. he doesn't know if mickey would drop everything and drive all the way here to come get him. he doesn't even know if mickey would answer the phone. he wouldn't know and he wouldn't ask, and ian doesn't know if he would let ian tell him if by a strange twist of fate ian wanted to for some reason. but he knows mickey still loves him. and he can already hear mickey's voice in his ear with his phone still face down on the table. so he calls mickey.

i'm a voyeur (lmfao. obviously.) which means i want witnesses, so we'll have mickey be at the alibi when the call comes through. kev is just off to the side a bit, pretending to listen to some other all-day bar patron say some stupid shit, but he's got some of the facts sussed out so when mickey sees the caller id and puts down his beer so fast it spills to answer it, and the answer in question is just, "Ian?" and his voice is all breathless and wet because he's too drunk and too heartbroken-hopeful to play it cool or keep it quiet, Kev is goddamn Zoned the fuck In.

"yeah, i- me- yours too," mickey says. the other bar patron tries to speak. kev does not so much as glance at them, gesturing for them to be quiet distractedly and obliviously coming close to hitting them in the face.

"couple weeks ago," mickey says. "boy. terry's thrilled." he keeps whatever insult he might have used, but the depth of hatred it would have represented is still QUITE clear. clear enough for kev to nervously check over his shoulder, relieved to find the pool table unattended. "i know that ain't what you fucking called about. if it is you can go fuck yourself."

there's a long pause. maybe ian's talking, maybe mickey's just waiting for him to.

eventually mickey asks, "are you- ...where are you?" the answer is short and mickey says, "that's not that far." then, soft and aching like no one actually in the room has ever heard him, if they've ever heard it from anyone at all, "can i come see you?"

the answer to that is very, very short. mickey's face doesn't crumble, not quite. he just closes his eyes hard, painful crease between his eyebrows, a shamed dip of his chin. "sorry," he says, "fucking stupid questio-"

"oh," he says. and then, soft again, aching still but in a different way. "yeah, i can do that. i, uh," he looks at the beer he spilled, his fuck even knows round of the day at fucking 11 am or whatever, embarrassed, "i gotta sober up first, but i- yeah. i'm... on my way."

[princelylove]

Sometimes I forget my interpretations are not canon. For my freaks who are into hyper specific body parts, like I am, here’s the first batch of my body interpretations for part five. 

I can’t count how many full body shots or slow pan downs we had of Giorno- with a rightful emphasis on his hips and legs. Giorno’s muscle is that of a ballerina’s- slender, but has lots of stamina. He has a small waistline, like majority of the Joestars do, and his limbs are all rather lean, but his thighs provide an adequate amount of support for his ‘hips.’ He’d prefer terms like ‘full’ or ‘shapely’ over ‘thick’ or ‘well-rounded,’ but all apply. He’s shy in comparison to his father, who prefers the inverse to be said about himself. It’s generally best to not mention how attracted you are to his ass his broad hips, he's a bit embarrassed of his curves.

He stands comfortably at a nice 177 cm, or 5’8”. He’s often teased by Guido for being ‘so small,’ despite Narancia being the shortest. (Guido doesn’t want to get stabbed at nine in the morning.) His hands are slender, and delicate-looking. He has long fingers that he lets bugs and small animals crawl all over. He prefers not to wear nail polish at all, and dislikes wearing rings. 

Giorno is such a pale white that you can see the blue of his veins on parts of his chest. There’s little bits of pink towards the tips of his fingers, but the rest of his skin is almost pure white. It would be concerning if you didn’t know he gets plenty of sun- how he manages to stay that shade and practically live in the sun is beyond you. 

Giorno has a bit of a baby face still, he has very round features, besides from his eyes. He's a victim of that phenomenon where strangers trust you because of your ‘welcoming’ face, despite the fact that Giorno rarely smiles unless he wants something. His hair is naturally somewhere between wavy and curly, and falls down to his hips when it isn’t in a braid. After he becomes the don of passione, he wears it down more often. He thinks it helps attract new recruits- and he’s right, it does. If you’re attracted to full, heart-shaped lips and long eyelashes, Giorno will have you wrapped around his finger. 

He smells like flowers, white jasmine and roses to be specific.

Don’t talk to me about Bruno’s hourglass. He has a bit more shoulders, so I’m tempted to say he has a different body type, but it’s so slight that you wouldn’t notice unless you were taking his measurements, so I won’t count it. 

His muscle is from hard labor rather than consistently working out- habits from when he was just a baby helping his father- Bruno doesn’t exactly have time to do a real routine, and he neglects himself too much for it to work. While he does have a good bit of muscle, he isn’t as well-defined as someone like Leone or Risotto is. He can’t do a calorie deficit, he needs that food to keep working as hard as he possibly can. If he stops eating as much, he can’t work, and then he couldn’t protect you or his family (same thing), and, and, and, and. He eats well, he just doesn’t sleep enough. He’d probably stop worrying if he did. Most of his muscle is in his arms, back, and legs. 

Bruno is a strong man, he prides himself on being able to physically protect his darling. His looks aren’t a big deal to him, but he does enjoy taking care of himself. He wouldn’t have such a high maintenance haircut otherwise. He dislikes makeup on himself, but he grooms himself excessively- he isn’t one for long routines and expensive skincare, but he appreciates a nice cleanser and moisturizer, which he also uses on his hands. Bruno will sometimes put clear nail polish on just his hands, if he remembers it. 

Bruno is 183 cm, or 6ft. His height isn’t overbearing- in fact, he just makes the cusp of what most people would call ‘tall’ for a man- but he isn’t small, either. He’d love to share clothes with his darling, but if he cannot fit into yours, he’ll settle for giving you his. If you make him seem small, he’d happily wear some of yours, too. 

His skin tone is a light brown, although it pales slightly in the winter. He spends a lot of time in the sun, on top of his natural complexion. His undertones are warm.

Bruno's only tattoo is the one on his chest. It covers part of his stomach, as well.

Leone has lots of birthmarks scattered all over him. He stands at 195 cm, or 6’5”. I tend to think of Leone with more shoulders than hips, but he has a small waist, and it isn’t like his hips aren’t grabbable.

It makes him feel better about himself to work out consistently, so he kept his morning habits from his younger days. While he wishes he could say he works out for his health, it’s just because he doesn’t feel good unless he looks good, and that’s how he’d like himself to look. He has very prominent iliac crests, and a well defined torso. Most of the ‘fat’ in his body is in his tits. (Author’s note: Although it’s more appropriate to say muscle, since building muscle is how men get a larger chest, I’m using ‘fat’ for a better visual. When pectoral muscles relax, they appear squishy and pliable like most women’s chests do, so it isn’t entirely outlandish.) 

He has a thorough routine for his skin- he even has a separate one for his hands, which doesn’t work very well. Leone’s hands look smooth, but they’re a bit rough from work. His nails are fairly long, and natural. Painted either black or a deep red. He shapes them into coffins. They break easily. 

When he’s stressed, he tweezes his eyebrows. He makes them thin, and follows the natural small arch he has. Leone’s eyes are actually brown, he just puts contacts in to match his makeup for the day. He puts eyeliner on his waterline, like how you’d put kohl on.

I’ve mentioned briefly before that Leone has darker skin than in canon, but I specifically meant a dark brown complexion over just a tan one. He has cool undertones. 

While he doesn’t have any tattoos, he has a few piercings. His nipples, belly button, and nose are all pierced. The side of his nose, not a septum. 

Narancia gets pretty pissed when you mention that he’s 164 cm, or 5'3”. He’s still got some years before his body hits its limit, alright. He’s horribly jealous of Guido’s physique, he doesn’t understand how he’s doing the same things but Guido has way more mass than him. It just so isn’t fair. 

While he does have very distinct muscle, I wouldn’t call Narancia big. He cuts without realizing it- he has food right in front of him, but hasn’t fixed his eating habits from living on the street. If you praise his abs and arms, he’ll let you feel.

Narancia’s a light tan sort of beige. He tans every year without fail. It makes him sad to see himself pale, as it reminds him of his mother, who had the same complexion. 

He has a few tattoos, all of which are stick-and-poke, and done by himself through boredom. The designs are nonsensical and don’t mean much to him. He has tons of piercings, done by Pannacotta in a bathroom for the promise of not having to do household chores. Both his nose piercing and eyebrow rejected, so he settled for torturing his ears. 

He hates makeup, nail polish, and skincare routines. Narancia's skin is somehow perfect. It's debatable if he cleans his piercings out every once in a while or not. Narancia's hands are very square, and his nails are so short that them growing past his finger tips is a miracle.

Guido stands at about 190 cm, or 6’3”. I’d give him a smidge more at most, but he just isn’t as tall as Leone. Guido has a tendency to slouch when he sits, but loves to straighten his back out when he’s standing next to someone shorter. The first thing he did in purple haze feedback was check if Panna had him yet- and was secretly overjoyed that he wasn’t even close. 

Guido’s normally smiling- the only time he isn’t is when he’s truly alone, working, or genuinely pissed off. He’ll have deep smile lines when he’s older. It’s more of a grin than a smile, really- he finds amusement in the oddest of things. 

The only word that comes to mind is how big Guido is; Guido’s sizable nature is one of the first things you’d notice about him. It’s almost criminal to focus more on his chest- the man has ass and the thighs to back it up. Guido has a very full figure, he prefers bulking over cutting by far, and he doesn’t work out just to look good. He wants to be strong, and his job is very demanding. It just works. (It makes him feel useful.) Guido gets up when the sun does to work out, every day, probably for the rest of his life. He has a visible Adonis belt, but not a very deep, defined one. While the crease is there, he’d never intentionally lower his body fat percentage to match someone like Leone’s.  

His eyebrows are thick and straight. He cleans them up as best as he can, but hates doing it himself, so he makes Leone do his for him, in exchange for doing the dishes that night. (Leone normally turns the television up so he doesn’t have to hear Guido whine about how much painnnnn he’s innnn.) He doesn’t cut his own hair either, but doesn’t trust anyone on the team to get his curls right, so goes to a professional for trims. He started wearing hats because of a bad cut, but the pressure was comforting. 

Nothing irritates me more than when people take away Guido’s color. You are out of your MIND if you think he’s any lighter than a medium brown- and that’s being a bit generous. He has warm undertones, and gets as much sun as he can year-round. 

He doesn’t use cologne, and uses an unscented bar soap. Guido understands the importance of a good conditioner, but body soap? It’s all soap, man. Bar soap is fine, costs less, too. He tries to take care of himself, but isn't excessive about it. His nails are short and clean, but he doesn't trim the hair on his knuckles until Trish points out how noticeable it is.

Guido has a few tattoos, all of which he whined through getting. He decided to have the majority of them on his upper arms. They’re all biblical. He has a tendency to grab the bicep with Saint Mary on it when he’s nervous. He thought about piercing his belly button, but pussied out when he saw the needle. 

After the events of vento aureo, he got an orange on his upper back. 

Pannacotta is 180 cm, or 5’11”. He used to be the same height as Giorno, but gained some height over the course of Purple Haze Feedback, and now has to look down at his boss to make eye contact. He’s rather lean, and a bit ‘flat’ all around- he lacks a prominent waist as well.  

His complexion is very fair, and sort of pinkish. He doesn’t tan well at all, and is often teased by Narancia for it. His hair is entirely white- it's common to hear that it's because of stress, but he was just born like that.

Most people would describe Pannacotta as ‘pretty’ rather than ‘handsome.’ He wouldn't consider himself so, as he’s not actually all that feminine he just hangs out with two very masculine types and seems it in comparison, but he doesn’t mind. Well. He does. He hates feeling people stare at him when they obviously have intentions, but a little compliment is just a little compliment. 

He takes care of his hands and feet, but doesn’t like colored nail polish. He borrows Bruno’s clear polish. Pannacotta likes strawberry scented soap, and would buy a body spray that smells similar, if he was aware it existed.

He only has his ears pierced, and no tattoos. He almost trusted Narancia enough to give him a tattoo, but decided against it when he realized Narancia had the freedom to not listen. 

Trish doesn’t really have any muscle, but she is skinny. She looks significantly more like Diavolo than Donatella, which is horribly ironic. She’s slightly above average height for a girl her age, just shy of Giorno’s height, although seemingly short in comparison to the ridiculously tall cast of vento aureo. 

Trish’s complexion is (exactly) sort of like Diavolo’s- a light brown, with cool undertones. She tends to avoid the sun, and will slather on sunscreen to avoid getting a tan. She’s afraid of ‘aging early.’ 

Trish makes a lot of the same expressions as Diavolo- her annoyance, joy, even her anxiety all bear some resemblance. Before he left, Donatella would joke about using him as a blueprint. 

She gets her nails done professionally, and tends to go for acrylics over her natural nails. Trish prefers small, almond-ish shaped nails, with a lot of designs or charms. She just gets solid color on her toes. 

Trish is the type of girl to use five different washcloths in the same shower. She has an extensive hygiene routine, and all of her soaps are chosen to complement the smell of her favorite liquid body soap- which is a nice vanilla in winter, and coconut in summer. 

While Trish is a “You wouldn’t put a bumper sticker on a Bentley” kind of girl, she does have a few piercings. Her ears, nose, and belly button are all adorned with the shiniest, blinged-out piece of jewelry she could find.