#i hate you womens sizing i hate you fast fashion i hate you i hate you i hate you

[supergraphicultramoderngirl]

FUCK YOU AMERICAN EAGLEEEEE I JUST WANT TO BUY JEANS. bitch

[ronearoundblindly]

Threadbare (1)

Steve Rogers x Fashion Designer!Reader

Part One: Yield Strength (see series)

Summary: Steve gets to meet his favorite designer, and you get a surprise visitor at work.

Warnings: none. Maybe a bit of creepy behavior but not from Steve. Yes, I did just want to use the leather jacket gif for shiggles. What's it to ya? WC 3355

Steve Rogers hates stuffy functions. He hates the brown-nosing. He hates trying to convince people who have everything to give scraps to people with nothing. He hates watching the excess and indulgence, even when he knows it ends up giving something to those in need. He hates it. He hates the whole lot of these stupid, asinine—

Steve takes a breath and smooths his hand down the buttery fabric of a double-breasted jacket hanging next to his intended garment.

Ok, fine, he hates the functions, but he actually enjoys the dressing up part.

He didn’t used to. No. The only outfit outside of his Cap suit that ever truly fit him—before or after the serum—was his SSR uniform, and coming from a time of nothing, Steve accepted that as a huge win.

And then he woke up in this world of excess and—what do they call it? Fast-fashion?— realized that what should be easier to acquire was much, much harder to find: room to breathe.

Steve may roll his eyes at Tony’s custom everything, but he admits internally that at least Stark’s comfortable all the time. Steve would settle for being comfortable in his own skin.

This helps though, this gloriously draped, stiff in a supportive way, heavy in a grounding way, and shapely button down. He doesn’t need a whole suit tonight; it’s not that kind of event. In fact, Steve wasn’t specifically invited. He heard Tony talking about the new collection by the designer of this shirt—which happens to be the label for 90% of Steve’s dressier clothing at this point—and Steve outright volunteered himself to go with Tony.

See, Steve Rogers is now a big, broad guy, and it’s been an adjustment, as well as plain difficult, to gather a wardrobe that isn’t custom tailored due to his sheer size and proportions. The team jokes about his tight shirts, but if he buys things large enough for his shoulders, his waist swims in fabric. Steve had to live off of stretchy clothing for the first three years he was out of the ice. He wasn’t out of his Cap suit long enough for the investment to be worthwhile. Then it took another several years before he discovered Tovarich.

The man must know what it’s like to be big and broad, that’s for sure. Steve may not be much for high fashion, but he’s genuinely gotten so much comfort and enjoyment out of Mr. Tovarich’s work that Steve wants to thank him personally. For once, being Captain America is a good card to play to ensure he gets to meet the designer.

Steve adjusts his rolled sleeves a bit in the mirror, smirking at himself for being a bit of a dandy concerning his look right now, but he’s determined to have a good time out with Tony. It’s just a fashion show. How difficult can it be?

Really damn difficult, that’s what it is.

Steve isn’t prepared for the bizarre press interest in who is there instead of what is being shown. He’s used to cameras flashing at him—especially because the bright and loud pops of flashes were much worse in the ‘40s—but Steve’s in awe of the models’ complete indifference while walking a straight line with a straight face in some of the simplest, most magnificent men’s wear he’s ever seen.

If all he had to do was tick boxes on a list to order things, Steve would be in big trouble with a full bingo card and an empty wallet. It’d be worth it though.

Tony tries to talk to him every so often, but the music is outrageously loud. Steve can’t hear a thing.

He gets tapped on the shoulder by some women sitting behind him, and they try to say some more things he can’t hear.

Everyone rises to clap, and Steve joins in, overwhelmed by the fast pace of all the outfits on repeat, when the man on his other side accidentally elbows Steve and drops his program. The paper flutters to land in front of Tony’s feet, so Steve picks it up, hands it back, and the man makes an appreciative face before gesturing vaguely at the runway and mouthing his admiration. Steve nods and smiles, happy he’s not the only one fanboying over clothes.

The lights change in the venue. The photography and clapping stop. Tony starts yammering on about an after party, but Steve wants to meet the designer.

“Oh, Cap, that walk-and-wave was as close as you’re getting today. Tovarich is a hot commodity. I’ll just get you a fitting sometime.” He clamps a hand onto Steve’s shoulder and tilts his head toward the refreshments. “Shall we?”

Darn. Steve should have done more research on how fashion shows work, but he hates how invasive online snooping feels. It was fine when he was catching up on history and historical figures. However, most of the ‘news’ now is not news at all, so he avoids searching for information that way. He doesn’t ask question about Mr. Tovarich because, in theory, it’s none of Steve’s business and Steve may or may not be slightly ashamed at how obsessed he is with something as trivial as clothing.

Fashion is not something he thought about until very, very recently. The most time he’s spent worried about what he puts on is his tac suit, and the main features of that are being blade resistant and bullet proof. Those things don’t exactly interest him so much as they are in his best interest.

So Steve is rather disappointed by the outcome of the evening, but he’ll manage. For once, he’s got a tiny bright light of something to look forward to in the form of a few more dress shirts and a very sharp vest.

He goes on with life as usual.

Months later and they’re doing this thing.

It’s called the Hellfire Gala, and apparently, it’s a big, big deal. Steve’s told everyone goes all out, that he’ll need to be dressed to the nines, and he realizes this is his opportunity.

Tony’s elated to make the arrangements for him with the Tovarich Atélier and plans to go with him. He wouldn’t stop grumbling about how awkward Steve might be, raving that he can’t have Steve getting a bad rap under his clout, so Steve shows up nervous.

Tony sends a text saying he’s running late. Of course he is, today of all days.

Steve shuts his eyes and lowers his head in gratitude that there are only two seamstresses when he first arrives. The ladies—one older and one younger—offer refreshments and ask a few questions about the event and what styles he might be interested in. He explains the getup needs to highlight the ‘Cap’ persona since the gala is a celebration of their work as Avengers, but other than that, it’s the-sky’s-the-limit for Tovarich.

The younger seamstress smiles at that and calls it ‘fun.’

Sure. That’s one word for it. Steve would also call it daunting.

As instructed, he stands on a small platform while the ladies bustle about speaking quietly to each other. Steve hears Tony ring the reception bell before any measurements have started, and he heaves out a sigh of relief.

“In time for the good stuff, am I?” Stark winks.

“Always perfectly welcome, Mr. Stark,” you, the younger woman, say politely. “Would you care for anything to drink?”

“Uh,” Tony smooths his hand down his current suit front, eyes flickering to Steve, “have you met me?”

Your smile widens. “Dominica, please,” you signal to your coworker.

Between your fingers, you’ve folded a scrap of paper, something you scribbled while Steve stood awkwardly on the pedestal (which isn’t to say he has stopped standing awkwardly), and Tony snatches the paper from your grasp, unfolding it to make a challenging, inquisitive face.

Steve huffs and glares, praying his friend doesn’t start hitting on Tovarich’s employee before the man even shows up. Steve isn’t the one to be worried about.

Stark takes Dominica’s proffered tumbler of brown liquor, saying nothing.

You are a ninja with the tape measure, gentle hands sliding over his chest and waist and—Steve swallows—his hips, all while rattling off numbers…which no one writes down. Steve moves his arms and legs when told. When you’re kneeling on the edge of the platform, eye level with his crotch, Steve decides to distract himself and get some answers.

“I’ve been looking forward to my first meeting with Mr. Tovarich. When might he arrive?”

Tony clears his throat, wincing. “Not possible, buddy.”

Steve tenses.

“I thought that—“

“You can’t meet him for the the first time.” Tony holds up a hand before Steve can move. “You already did. She’s measuring the distance between your balls and the floor.”

Steve startles out a ‘what,’ snapping his legs shut with your hand between his thighs.

“Captain Steve Rogers, please meet your favorite designer,” Tony beams, shoving his tongue against the inside of his cheek and hiking up his eyebrows.

Steve shrinks, face burning.

“Hello, Captain Rogers,” you introduce yourself with a lovely smile, “I will…need my hand to make your suit, sir.”

His open-mouthed impression of a fish is cut short by standing at attention, releasing the seal of his thighs. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”

“Very polite,” you mutter before turning to Tony. “Mr. Stark, was that entirely necessary?”

“For the look alone, yes. My god, I’ll pay you again just to watch now that he knows.”

You push off the platform and practically skip over to Tony, reading over his shoulder. “How did I do?”

Tony looks at the piece of paper. “Damn it. Spot on,” Tony grunts.

“And that means…?”

“That I leave you alone for the rest of the consult,” Tony whines. “Fine, but make it worth it, buddy. Lady gets paid by the hour.” He snaps his fingers playfully. “Dominica, let’s take room two, my dear.”

Steve’s not sure what to do with his hands and mistakenly remains up high on the pedestal while you pull out a notebook and sit at a small table.

“Oh!” You look up at him with tender, lively eyes. “You may step down now.”

He feet seem to thunder to the floor even against the carpet. “I didn’t mean to—I just assumed that—I’m sorry, Misses—”

“It’s Miss,” you correct him. “And don’t worry. You are not the first, and you won’t be the last. Have a seat, Captain.”

“Steve.”

“Steve,” you correct yourself this time. “I’ll tell you a secret. I prefer that most people assume a man runs this business. You get to see people’s true colors when they finally find out.”

That doesn’t help Steve’s hot flush of embarrassment.

“You are one of the good ones. I can tell,” you add, adjusting to a fresh page in the notebook and marking the top corner.

In the silence Steve asks, “so you already knew my size?”

“You aren’t so different from my standard cut.”

“No,” he allows. Of course, he should have known that seeing as everything he buys from your label fits him so well. He kicks himself internally while trying not to frown at his slip up. It is, however, easy to keep a smile while basking in the glow of yours.

You pop your shoulder up into a shrug, lips morphing into a wry tease. “And I’m pretty good at what I do.”

Amazing, Steve thinks to himself. You’re amazing…at what you do.

Your elbow rests against the table, hand cupping your jaw as you hold Steve’s gaze.

“Some even call me a master of the male form.”

His swallow is deafening, which only makes you happier, and he looks down at his knee, rubbing his pant leg while his face heats.

“But for today’s purposes—“ you lean back in your chair, twirling your pencil playfully, a magic wand in your brilliant hands “—why don’t you tell me what makes me your favorite designer so I can make you my favorite client?”

Why’d you have to be so pretty? Why do you need him for so few fittings?

Steve has to stop himself from spending a Tony Stark-sized fortune on clothing for the pleasure of walking into your store and seeing you alone—well, in the hope of seeing you at all. Dominica is very sweet, sassy in a hard ass mom kind of way, and she’s one of four total assistants you have at the shop. Steve’s met three of them.

There’s just only one of you, and you’re busy.

Between his duties with the Avengers, actually sleeping, and debating with himself about what constitutes looking desperate, Steve is lucky to have caught you in-house only half the times he visits.

And then he tore a shirt. In fact, he tore three shirts, and to his credit, two of them were by accident. The third…uh, there’s a chance that when Steve exclaimed “oh shoot, I didn’t see that nail poking out” that he 100% saw that nail and deliberately brushed himself against that wall. He also may or may not have deliberately done it in front of Tony, faking that it was no big deal, because now he has the excuse that Tony is the one who told him to go see you.

Yeah, Steve agrees, if you say so.

He’s all excitement and nerves again when he rounds the corner of your street, but then the adrenaline shoots through Steve’s veins for a different reason.

A squad car has jumped the curb in front of your shop, lights flashing, doors left open, and Steve can hear lots of tense voices.

It’s a stressful enough day without the uninvited guest. Not many people—who know how you work and are not assholes—would dare to show up within a month of the Spring Show, without an appointment, and demand a rush job.

A rush job on a custom suit that you explicitly said could not be rushed before its scheduled time, mind you, but the surprise visitor doesn’t care.

Richard Fisk is broad. He has dirty blond hair that falls in front of his eyes when he tilts his head to smile. He often travels with a whole team of other imposing men.

The son of Wilson ‘Kingpin’ Fisk, however, is a prime example of personality souring good looks. Where it’s bashful and adorable that Steve Rogers hides his smile, Richard barely bridles his menacing entitlement.

You hate him, but he’s not a person you can outright refuse. He makes all of your assistants uncomfortable. Fisk is needlessly hostile to Tarik, who is thankfully not here today; he’s a creepy dick to Abby, who you insist stays in the fitting room with Anja, your longtime client who trusts you to push the envelope tastefully for a redheaded woman in her sixties; and he almost made Jules quit because he couldn’t follow instructions during a consult. Dominica stands in as the perfect buffer when she’s here, but the eldest of the Tovarich Atélier employees is currently on the other side of the city for a VIP delivery.

Your busy, busy day just got much harder.

His trio of beefy entourage flanks Fisk at the front of your shop.

“Here for my suit, sugar,” he drawls, flicking his used toothpick into a corner on the floor.

He eyes Abby as she shuts herself and Anja away from his direct ire, and although this leaves you alone, it stops your worry for their safety in addition to your own.

“As it stipulates in the commission, we take at least—“

“Those little hands are free now, I see,” he spits, stepping within an few inches of your face. His breath is foul and hot.

The aggression has you stumbling back, smashing into a side table and knocking a box of supplies to the ground.

“How ‘bout you get to work.”

You take in a heavy, fortifying, and quiet gasp. “Per your order, the fabric is manufactured off-site because teal is not a standard color. It takes time to produce. This was made very clear when you signed.”

Fisk flashes that menacing smile. “We can wait. One of these fine men can…keep you focused till you do your job.”

The condescending tone and disrespect of your work ethic spark flames of rage in your gut. Even though terror still simmers beneath, it’s too easy to let an insult fly.

“You’re lucky I’m even making it. The all white one last summer was a stretch, but teal? On you? Not something you can pull off.”

He lunges forward again. “Keep up the cheek, and I’ll lock you in my basement until I get everything I—“

“Ma’am,” a cop bursts through the shop door, “we got a call…” The officer goes quiet after one look at Fisk.

Abby must have phoned after hearing you knock supplies down, and you’re grateful, yes, but police are of little help with this guy. Cops wouldn’t dare ruffle Kingpin’s feathers or his awful son’s by proxy, but if you roll over now, you’ll never get back out from under him.

The only way forward is to put your foot down.

“Mr. Fisk, I wouldn’t make you a black and white striped three-piece if you did chain me in a basement. You’re a spring, and I have standards.”

“Ma’am,” the officer warns, his partner standing nervously in the open doorway.

“What kind of professional would I be if I let you walk around looking like a mental asylum inmate? I’m doing you a favor!”

Richard brandishes another toothpick. “The customer is always right, sugar.”

It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid to taunt him and yell. Being insulted and diminished doesn’t make you want to be smart though; it makes you want to be right.

Your hands ball into fists of fear and rage. “It’s my name on the label,” you bark, “and I could just refund you to get you the hell out!”

Now you’ve really done it.

The boy gangster’s face twists and his oral fixation goes limp in disbelief. No one talks to Richard Fisk that way, least of all women.

His men step between both the cops and their boss, leaving Fisk himself to grab a solid wood tie box from the nearest counter and fling it at your face.

Your arms fly up to block it, but nothing ever connects, nor is there a crash behind you.

An officer’s voice wavers from across the room. “Uh, I’m sure this can all be worked out. No need to…start anything.”

You’re ashamed to say that your hands are shaking when they return to your sides and reveal an entirely different bulky blond.

Steve Rogers casually holds the caught box in his hands, staring daggers as he shifts squarely in front of you to block Fisk.

“This doesn’t concern you, Captain,” the bully grunts. “Piss off.”

Steve strides forward to replace the box neatly and plants himself inches from Fisk’s face.

“Can’t do that. She’s expecting me.” He turns back to you. “Ready?” Steve asks with a tight smile.

You swallow down one iota of your alarm and clear your throat.

“Yes—” the word cracks but you hope familiarity will scare off Fisk for now “—thank you, Steve.”

That seems to be Captain America’s cue to handle everyone else at odds in the storefront. By the time you get control of your trembling limbs, Steve has shown Fisk the door and promised the officers that you’ll be looked after.

Abby peeks out of the fitting room, surprised to see only Steve.

“Did they send you instead?”

She opens the door wider for Anja to see.

The redhead quirks an eyebrow. “Call the police more often, honey. They’ve upped their game.”

The now bashful, broad blond tilts his head, rogue hair falling across his face. His blue eyes sparkle beneath long lashes while he apologizes for lying, but you can’t for the life of you figure out why he’d feel guilty.

“I…” Steve stumbles. “I don’t have an appointment. I just wanted to see you.”

Currently estimating four parts to this grumbling into the ether but who knows. I clearly cannot be trusted to estimate length anymore...

[Next Part]

You can find more to read on my Main Masterlist! For readers under 18, please see the Light Masterlist which contains all-age-friendly works.

@supraveng @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @femefetalelevelingup @darsynia

[unreadpoppy]

Saw a video and it got me in a mood so i'm making this post.

I don't think people who have never been fat knows how fucking hard it is to find clothing for bigger bodies.

The first issue is finding stuff in your actual size. Because time after time after time and time again I've gone to a store and they only had small and medium sizes. Not even large. And this was not for a few clothes, no. It was for MOST clothes that I found interesting. And then the ones that were marked as large were simply not big enough.

And I know that the reason for that is that brands simply won't make clothes for fat people. It's that because it surely isn't because the large size is selling out fast. They just don't do it. And some people have the nerve to say 'well brands are not obligated to make sizes for everyone' yeah sure, but also, I can't walk naked on the street can I?

Like I don't get it. 'oh but we want our clothes to fit a especific body' so fucking make clothes that are supposed to fit bigger bodies. Doesn't have a to be a whole ass collection.

And then we get on the second problem which is making clothes for plus size people that are ugly as hell. It's always the same stuff: ugly florals, animal print that belongs in another decade, cold shoulders, that weird extra fabric at the end of a shirt to hide the belly, or just black/muted colors.

Like fun fact. If you have big boobs, the hardest thing in the world is trying to find a bra that comes in a color that isn't white, black or beige. Because trust me, I've spent 3 hours walking in the shopping mall and I couldn't find anything that fit my breasts that was like pink (and in that situation I needed a pink bra for a play).

It feels like most clothes made for plus sized people are designed with like 50+ year old white women in mind, and not even that demographic of people are wearing those clothes (my mom is a plus sized 50+ year old white woman and often talks about how ugly some clothes made for people her size are).

It's hard trying to develop your own sense of style when none of the clothes around you are in your size, and when they do, they are just not good looking to you.

But you wanna know what's the down right worst part? Do you know what fucking brand has clothes that look good and are amde for bigger bodies?

The goddamn cancer on this earth that is Shein.

I fucking hate shein. Fast fashion is killin the fashion industry, they literally have people working as slaves and many influecers buy shein clothes by the bulk only to then throw it in the trash. Shein is awful.

But. Unfortunetly, shein is the only place that I found that had clothes that fit me and looked good. I don't like that. I avoided buying from shein for the longest time ever, but jesus christ, when you can't find clothes anywhere else you get desperate.

I tried looking for other places. I tried looking at my local clothing stores and everything was too small for me. I tried looking at online small bussinesses but they either didn't make my size, or it was sold out, or the prices were very high. Tried looking at thrift stores, also didn't find my size.

I try not to buy too much from shein or to spend long periods of time in between buying, because again, I feel bad about buying there. I don't want to buy from there.

Clothing brands/stores gotta do better. And I don't think that's asking for too much.

[beangods]

🔥 fashion

we should all just be naked when the weather is appropriate idgaf

but seriously uhhhhhh. i dont even think "modern fashion looks kinda fucked up and fast fashion is literally evil" are unpopular opinions, nor is "contemporary menswear is really fucking boring in terms of general silhouette and the colors/patterns/cuts of men's fashion are extremely limited compared to women's fashion, and this kinda sucks for multiple, potentially contradictory reasons" (women's fashion should be based more on comfort, practicality, & actual body shape/men's fashion should have more variety in forms at play). most of the things which attract my ire are ultimately passing fads and will not exist in 6 months, or exist purely online in tiktokkers' bedrooms and are not meant to be worn out of the house at all. i certainly wish things came in a wider range of "odd" sizes, or that tailoring was more accessible, and i EXTREMELY hate that all pants are made for people over 5'7 regardless of waist size, but again, these are normal opinions and gripes.

ok here's one: all of the italian designer fashion i have seen is ugly as fuck and so is chanel. if it's supposed to be wearable art then it looks too much like clothes and if it's supposed to be clothes it looks too much like art. i don't have the eye to properly appreciate this stuff quite yet, i'll admit that, but if it looks ugly as fuck and you can't explain what it's supposed to mean/what statement it makes in this particular ugliness then you should not wear it out of the house. don't wear [x designer piece] just because it's expensive.

[ladyartichokie]

0-44 on the ask game. I'm nosy and even though I know the answer to several of those questions I'm not going to type out every single number individually.

(plz feel free to ignore this ask lol I don't seriously expect you to type all that out even tho I'd read it)

killing you killing you killing you

0: Height? 5'0"

1: Virgin? You know the answer to this

2: Shoe size? Anywhere from Womens 5 to 9

3: Do you smoke? Nope

4: Do you drink? Occasionally

5: Do you take drugs? Nope. But fun fact, I had to take painkillers when I was little and they altered my taste buds

6: Age you get mistaken for? Well when I was like 11-12 I would get mistaken for 16. Now I think most people assume I'm around 18 just because I'm in advanced classes? IDK though

7: Have tattoos? Nay, my liege

8: Want any tattoos? I have mixed feelings on the morality of tattoos, but I know what I would get if I were to get some

9: Got any piercings? Just basic lobe piercings. I'm currently trying to convince my parents to let me get a second lobe piercing

10: Want any piercings? Yes

11: Best friend? Arnold Schwarzenegger

12: Relationship status? Single/married to more people than I can count

13: Biggest turn ons? I'm not answering this. (voice.)

14: Biggest turn offs? I'm not answering this

15: Favorite movie? 10 Things I Hate About You, Much Ado About Nothing, The Princess Bride, The Italian Job

16: I’ll love you if... you don't make fun of me for being excited for something. Or if you tell me something reminded you of me.

17: Someone you miss? My fake grandfather

18: Most traumatic experience? I'm not answering this, bestie

19: A fact about your personality... I'm actually really good at giving advice. I wasn't even aware of this until I accurately predicted exactly what would happen to multiple of my friends/their relationships

20: What I hate most about myself... my pride. I have a massive ego because I'm really smart and I know it.

21: What I love most about myself... IDK man.

22: What I want to be when I get older... A Dominican Sister

23: My relationship with my sibling(s)... They're good! It hasn't always been like this, but we're getting better

24: My relationship with my parent(s)... Always good with my dad, iffy with my mom

25: My idea of a perfect date... Truthfully I don't know. My parents didn't date before they got engaged, so dating has always seemed kind of odd to me.

26: My biggest pet peeves... People who buy crocheted stuff from fast fashion stores. I hate fast fashion in general, but crochet can ONLY be done by a human, so it's basically guaranteed that you're buying the product of slave-labor.

27: A description of the girl/boy I like

28: A description of the person I dislike the most... I actually am really bad at disliking people. Every single person who I've met and started out disliking I eventually came to like for one reason or another.

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend... uhhh. Boredom? IDK. I used to be a bit of a pathological liar, but I can't think of a recent lie I've told a friend

30: What I hate the most about work/school... bad seminars

31: What your last text message says... The most recent thing I sent someone (you) was "I did read 1.5 books from HTTYD"

32: What words upset me the most... huh, IDK. I can't think of any off the top of my head

33: What words make me feel the best about myself... This one is hard because I'm in this weird phase where I don't want my accomplishments recognized, and compliments in general frustrate me. I don't know why this is.

34: What I find attractive in women... Kindness that isn't wet-blanketness

35: What I find attractive in men... Warmness. Which, granted, sound like kindness but it isn't. (for legal reasons my answers to both this question and the previous one are purely platonic and subject to change)

36: Where I would like to live... a convent

37: One of my insecurities... My weight. I am going to the gym 2-4 times a week now, though, so I'm working on it.

38: My childhood career choice... a nun

39: My favorite ice cream flavor... Cookie Dough

40: Who wish I could be... a better person

41: Where I want to be right now... right where I am (that is, my bed)

42: The last thing I ate... a brownie

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately... Dobby

44: A random fact about anything... I'm currently trying to figure out how to make a cross-stitch that captures the vibe of No Longer You from Epic the Musical

For the record, you already knew at least half of these so I truly don't know why I bothered doing this.

[aanabear2803]

hi i've seen your posts about body weight and I as a fat girl, was wondering if you are open to talk about it or give advice about it

I have been struggling real bad with it lately, I thought I was ok and had been for a few years, turns out I hate my body so much and you seem so confident, you got any advice? would you be open to talk about it in dm's?

feel free to ignore this if it's uncomfortable tho

Hi :3 um... so. I struggle with my own body weight a lot. I wont really talk about the bad thoughts that lurk about.

Ive been overweight since I was a wee lad. It especially hurts when my meds make me constantly hungry. Like I am always fucking hungry. So I just snacked the day away without any thoughts of consequences. I still eat these meds to this day. I am still as hungry as ever.

Id say I wont have very awesome advice? Because what I would normally do when those bad thoughts do happen is... post nudes on my kinky tumblr? Which, you know I dont expect others to do. Im sure there are healthier ways to express yourself than to go on tumblr and do shit like being half naked. However there are tons of gorgous women who dress in lingerie and post on tumblr all the time. You kinda just need to know where to look.

Ive also been trying to loose weight. But its more for a health thing since Im close to being diabetic and Im super duper not down for that myself. Im already tired of the meds Ive eaten I dont want to have to subject myself to stabs of insulin.

Im not on a fad diet of any kind. Im just eating 1200kcal a day watching as my weight slowly goes down~ I calculate all of this stuff too.

There's also the difference in how being fat and being unhealthy are wildly different. There's also that thing on how genetics have a say in the weight a person can be. But that is not my expertize at all! But you can be more than welcomed to go search and read up on those.

Ive been more open to exposing my skin a little at a time? Like wearing a bikini while in the pool when Im exercising. Ive been very recently trying to get corsets to work out too! Altho whether you like it or not there will be stares from people. But I would say start from the clothes, buy stuff you think would make you strut a runway. Dont just buy tshirts and pants and call it a day. Find a top in your size and fucking go for it. (Altho I understand many curvy people will not be able to find it cheap and Im just saying if you are desperate for the cash.... you can try Shein. Which I understand many Americans are banning and all the problems with fast fashion into overproduction but they do have many plus size clothes that most store dont normally have for people like us so you know its entirely up to you! But I was close to tears when I bought something and it just.... fits you know? Just dont go all out and buy their entire stock. I buy 5XL on there and dont worry about the number being so high, its probably based around the chinese style with their insane standards)

But hey look, people are going to judge no matter what ok? They always will. They will always find a way to trash talk. Its hard to ignore them, I get it. But theyre not you. They dont know if youre trying to loose weight or whether the food youre eating is a reward for having done a week of gym. Id honestly just say the fries are delicious and they should try it and we move on with our day. Its like online haters, you dont waste an hour of your life justifying things to them, so you have no reason to need to justify things to irl people.

I do hope this helps a little? I dont mind dms if you have any other questions of course :3

[sanstropfremir]

✨🎥! Oh yes, please do talk about garments and shoes non stop!

My mother was a fashion professor (as in taught young adults how to make clothes from scratch, starting with the pattern and finishing with the final piece) and used to sew a lot so I do have pieces that she handmaded and also a couple of sewing machines at home. In fact, there a full manual sewing machine at my grandma’s that my mother used when she was studying. She passed quite a long time ago but I do remember that as a child she taught me how to hand sew a button. I literally have a drawer full of them, and a bazillion types of threads. In t-shirts/shirts whenever a hole appeared, she would cover it with something embroidered like any sort of figure that would go well to keep using that

Also, where I live there’s a “school” where they teach amateurs how to sew. They literally have a “Make a [insert piece of clothing] in a day” and they’re quite nice. A lot of people keep going back to them to make more so they have a different one every month or so

But yeah, composition of the garment is one of the things that’s says a lot about them. Again, another thing that my mother instilled in me was to go for natural fibres and treat them right. Learning how to read the label of the caring instructions also helps. I try to avoid anything that requires to be hand washed because I’m allergic to an ingredient that is present in pretty much every detergent, so that becomes a hassle for me, but generally I wash either cold or 30ºC max

Shoes are another thing. Some have the worst quality and break so easily without any option to repair them. Like I remember going to the shoemaker to repair the soles or the heels, but with most of the shoes made now, they’re so shitty that it’s not even worth it. And sadly, I have one of the most common shoe sizes for women, but with slightly slimmer feet so if I’m looking for heels, I need to go for something that has support on the ankle or size down, otherwise the heels would fall of my feet 🥲 And that extents to clothes as well. Sizing is so fucking inconsistence, specially for women. There’s items in one store made by the same manufacturer that differ SO MUCH… I hate it because, again, even though I am considered slim, my hips are wider and my waist a bit tinier so things that should fit on my waist do not go up my ass. And my chest is small as well so fitting all 3 is… a nightmare. I always question that if I can’t find things that fit me properly even though I’m considered to be “in the standard”, what about those bodies that are not? GOD, everyday I lose faith in the fashion industry

PD: LOL at the “adulthood is meeting your friends every few months anyways”, literally all of my friends live in different cities now, so we plan in advance when we get to see each other. Sometimes with 2-months notices, especially if that entails to reunite the whole gang and not just the core (10 vs 3)

hahaha so you really did already know everything i said! but that's ok, hopefully it still was some help somewhere.

trying to buy clothes really has been getting more and more difficult because you're absolutely right; the 'standard' body type that fast fashion is made for doesn't actually exist. pretty fucking depressing that a whole industry exists the make you feel unhappy and unsatisfied with how you look so you keep buying more things, but also there are so many of those industries also and capitalism ruins everything i hate it here. shoes are an intertwined problem too bc shoes that are shoddily made of synthetic materials are so bad in every way. even ones that are well made of synthetic materials are STILL bad imo. shoddy craftsmanship is a human constant but at least with natural materials some of that can either be repaired or recycled into something else, but synthetic materials? good fucking luck. i really do recommend to everyone that if it's possible they should get one good staple leather shoe that they learn how to take care of bc it will fit your foot better than any synthetic material and will last longer. there is a REASON that shoes have been made of leather literally for most of time; it's a vastly superior material in terms of physical properties than anything else for what shoes have to do as a functional objects. but the never ceasing cycle of capitalism has made it impossible to actually find something 'trendy' (or even just nice looking) and good quality AND at a good price. i really do hate it here.

[papirouge]

You said you studied fashion, have you seen how fashion cycles in a circle and how trends have influenced bodies? I noticed how so many younger girls (I think young gen z and older gen alpha specific) are open about wanting to see more anorexia in modeling now. Not healthier, fit or anything but the total opposite

I remember watching the Victoria’s Secret show as a kid, then the models years later coming out to talk about how they were starving themselves and the abuse they endured from that company because the ceo was friends with Epstein. Now I see young girls idolizing those models when they were younger and suffering but they also “looked good” so that suffering doesn’t matter to them. I had to hear my younger sister say that she wants to see “more bones” on the runway. She got yelled at by our mom and had to be hospitalized for her eating disorders before in the past. It’s horrific because it’s like either really dark humor to cope or they’re serious and I can’t tell anymore. It’s like these girls see abuse and misogyny in fashion as something trendy (until it happens to them)

You'll probably want to kill me for that anon but I actually think VS models do look great and not at all anorexic. I bet most people hating on them are either fat or jealous. Also I think USAmericans have a very different vision of what "too skinny" looks like because you'll see a lot of women with that size in Europe (or at least in here in France). I don't understand how dramatic they are whenever they see skinny women and start projecting all sort of pathology onto them to cope with them looking like they do. Sometimes....people just naturally have a great body (based on today modern standard of what looks "good") and that's it. There's nothing to explain or "clock" about it. Anyone trying to do so sounds pressed (and fat).

What actually concerns me is how fast those body trend come & go. Sure, they always existed, but back in the day, they stayed at least a decade...but I feel like the BBL craze was only a few years ago.. You can remove a corset - you can't remove the fat or whatever nasty stuff you pumped under your skin.....

My body shape/size is between the 2 models on the front and I'm far from being sick or underweight. Sure VS models have a mad diet because having a toned body demands a LOT of work (more than anorexia because bones are just....there - while muscles have to be maintained continuously) but this doesn't necessarily constitute evidence for ED.

You also have to keep in mind that most runway models are extremely young. They're 13-16 years old which means they still have their "girl body" where their hips have not popped out yet, their legs disproportionately longer than the rest of the body, and have yet to get their adult female fat. That's why the fashion industry is intrinsically pedophile. They want models with girls body, not women's body. I'll never forget (or forgive) Dries von Noten opening one of his show with a 14 yo model with a NAKED BUST for a collection called "Forbidden Fruit"...... - those pedo gay moids running this industry know what they're doing....

VS is much healthier in comparison, because I see (beautiful) women - not little girl playing women.

Now, I'm not saying ED is not a huge problem in the fashion industry but those girls wouldn't get scouted/hired if they don't already have that modelesque body, okay? Model agencies are not Weight Watchers they want the model body NOW. Do you think of all those girls were anorexic to being with...?nope, that's just how they were naturally built. I think ED is more prevalent in models with longer career that are starting to get their female adult body (more body fat, hips, etc) and try to compete with those younger models with that girl body.

I think the pro ana community never died and always been there somehow but with the return of skinny culture I guess they're gonna be on the spotlight again. Your mom is based for snapping at your little sis lol I would have done the same. This may just be a phase though ; anorexic girls seek for control and community ship and those pro ana community -beside their toxicity- can be a solace for girls trying to find a place for themselves and minds alike.

[ranknfoul-blog]

So, you've been diagnosed with cancer, here's what's next

As mentioned prior to the interludes, I was diagnosed with Stage 2 (not spreading, that's all I was holding on to at this point) squamous cell throat cancer. I got scheduled for something called a PET-C scan. Yeah, I could go look up what that's all about. YOU could go look up what that's all about. Neither is necessary, really. Let me walk you through my first-person experience of it.

So, I had to go to a different hospital. I have a hospital (remember the jerkholes with the forever-to-be-hated nasal packs?) a couple blocks from me. This time, I had to go to a hospital 30 minutes away from me. ONCE AGAIN, spoiler alert, this hospital is now basically my second home. I spent months driving there and back, Monday to Friday. It was actually a pleasure. Know why?

I drive a hybrid. Even in the thick of going back and forth, I was buying gas like once a month. In summer, once every 2-3 months. Hate on electrics all you want, gas hybrids are amazeballs as far as saving you money on gas.

Anyway, I went to this other hospital. I entered through a special door (I learned, this door led to the 'radiation suite'. I would go through this door, both ways, for about 2 months. I just didn't know it at the time). I got led to a regular looking exam room (uncomfortable exam-type chair, covered in tissue paper, etc). I was attended by a woman with a pretty thick German accent.

Stop there a sec. I have no issue with her having a thick German accent. In the midst of all of this uncertainty and fear, this was actually a point of minor joy for me. I would type out her responses in her accent (for example: Zis vill not heurt you), but to me it would be a celebration and to you it would be me just being a jerk, so I'm forgoing the accent-typing. Plus, it will save me trying to figure out how to spell some words, and will probably save me some keystrokes. Just know, she had a thick German accent, and given the setting and circumstances, I absolutely loved it!)

She handed me a bottle and told me to drink it. Half of my mind remembers it as 20 oz. (like a bottle of coke kind of size). Half of my mind remembers it as like 1/4 gallon. I'll update when I get my second scan. It seemed like a lot at the time, but maybe it was just because I had to drink it all at once.

Anyway, she handed me a bottle and told me I had to drink it. I was given the distinct impression that I couldn't just sit there sipping it, I had to chug it. I had other difficulties going on at the time (I mentioned dyspashia, but more on all of this later), so I chugged it as fast as I could. This was a solution that contained Barium.

I know a little bit about a few things, and probably you do too. There's the joke 'If you can't Helium or Curium, Barium' but it's just a joke, Barium won't kill you.

However, Barium will show up on certain imaging. A PET-C scan, for example. As soon as I saw on the container that it had Barium, I knew what it was for. When they told me to drink it as fast as I could, I knew why. It wasn't unpleasant, overall. Although it was kind of minty and I hate mint ("Oh yeah Bill? Do you hate minty flavor more than you hate DEATH???" Jesus, calm down. I hate mint, but I wasn't here for a taste testing for fuck's sake).

While I was dealing with that, the HCP walked out of the room, and came back with something that looked like a crude fire safe, if that crude fire safe was crudely fashioned from small sheets of lead, and had a lock on the front of it.

"Are you living with any children?" "No" "Any pets?" "No" "Any women who are pregnant or who might become pregnant?" (I'm starting to already feel a little judged here. I mean Jesus, I already look and sound like hell, and now you're asking me if I'm getting it on with someone? Really??) "No"

She unlatched and lifted the lid on this box. Inside was like a hypodermic on steroids with a massive metal collar around it. While this was happening, she explained:

I'm going to inject this (she said what it was, I admit I wasn't listening because in her hands was a GIANT hypodermic needle with a MASSIVE metal collar around the outside of it) into you. You're going to be radioactive for a day or 2. You shouldn't be around children, pets, (you get it from the questions above).

So naturally, being an introvert, and not wanting to die, I refused to refuse this whatever-it-is being injected into me.

So she injected it, and I immediately felt...absolutely nothing. Seriously, even days and weeks later, nothing. I'm not going to lie, all of that buildup was massively anticlimactic. No super powers. No flash-forwards or future seeing. I just had to stay isolated for a couple of days (joke's on them, I live for isolation!).

Then they threw me in the machine.

I later had a date with a CAT scan machine. I'm sure I'm confusing my experience between the two, so:

In either one or both of the machines:

I had to lay completely still.

The machine told me when I could breathe

The machine told me when to hold my breath

The machine then made personal comments on my grooming (at that time, I had all of my facial hair. I also had all of my head hair, but by 'all', I mean 3/4 of that was already on its way out. Machine: Nice eyelashes but you may want to check out Rogaine after your treatment. FUCK YOU MACHINE YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!)

Anyay, after all of the horizontal gymnastics involved (with both the PET-C and the later CAT scans), I was led up and out with no indication given as to what any of the results were.

Results came later. Even for those that knew me and talked to me while this was happening, no one, no one at all, knows the scope of what I went through. Here is where the real rollercoaster starts.

[theothersarshi]

Urgh, being perceived. I feel you. I have the advantage of being in a relatively crowded neighborhood, so at least that's not an issue except around the apartment building, where people might recognize me.

But otherwise, walking is one of my favorite things!!!

Comfy clothes

I've got several axes for comfort, but here are the basics:

good fabrics (don't chafe, don't have weird stitches that keep rubbing over my skin)

good cuts (don't ride up/down)

allow for as much movement as possible, so I never feel like anything's hindering me

During winter, when it gets fucking cold here (and I'm bad with cold):

I have these super-sweet, very cold-resistant pants from Columbia, which is a sportswear company. I like sportswear, it does the job.

comfy semi-hiking boots (which are SUPER hard to find for women, I grabbed a suitable pair from the men's section). Yeah, I'm not hiking. who cares. the point is that they're sturdy, waterproof and made for people to do some heavy duty walking in. Overkill for my 3 miles through the town? Maybe. But watch me give no fucks.

nice, comfy t-shirt

nice, comfy blouse (thickness depending on weather) OR hoodie

cold-resistant jacket

scarf

If I get too hot during winter, I open the jacket before I start sweating; if I'm wearing a hoodie underneath that jacket and for some reason I'm super-hot (I dunno, maybe I'm carrying groceries and going real fast), I'll be zipping down the hoodie, too. The scarf will protect my neck and chest, but the jacket and hoodie will be cooled down by the freezing winter air.

During summer:

plastic is the devil. it's not breathable. try getting cotton if you can (or linen), because polyester will be shite, it will stick to you, it'll make you sweat.

sneakers! tennis shoes! Tennis shoes are lighter, and they're as far from waterproof as you can get without being made of water, but they're my favorites on a sunny day. I've had the most luck finding comfy pairs in that section.

I'm an "all socks are socks" sort of person and give zero fucks. My firm belief is that it's the *shoe* that should be doing most of the work to prevent blisters (hello, tennis shoes!). But I've always hated the really short ones that are meant to look like you're not wearing socks at all, because all socks slide down, so the very short ones tend to need fixing all the fucking time. If you have more issues with socks than me, buy various pairs, see what works.

I favor long pants and long skirts, because they protect me from the sun and also from whatever surfaces I'm sitting on. They tend to be wider/flowier so they don't cling, and so they don't ride up (no friction = no cling = not running up my body). I can wear shorts or shorter skirts, but the same principles of "don't hinder movement, don't cling to me" apply.

hats are not stupid, but one that looks good on you and stays on your head can be hard to find. if the problem is the sun getting into your eyes, consider a baseball cap... or sunglasses. if, otoh, the problem is that the sun is hitting you directly and constantly, a bigger hat to also protect from heatstroke is better than sunglasses. (OR alternately a head scarf, which has the advantage that you don't need to find the right size; but has the disadvantage that you need to learn how to tie it so it looks like a fashion statement and not a fashion disaster.)

Where to walk

There are two options that I personally think are best: pretty places meant for leisure, that have loads of trees and nature (city parks, hiking trails); and urban settings where everybody's going somewhere and the sidewalks are clearly in use. It's best if you find a place with trees along the sidewalk for shade, especially in the summer, but let's face it: those are rare.

Obviously, pretty places have the advantage that you see pretty things and you get to enjoy nature or whatnot.

But places like this (Bucharest, Romania, downtown) are fine:

They're great, actually.

Everybody's going somewhere, the cars and pedestrians are clearly separated, nobody cares what you're doing, there are too many people for anyone to notice you, and if you take five turns around the same block, it'll take a very bored old lady to notice.

Usually, while not at this scale, most cities and even villages here will have some sort of area with decent sidewalks (Ibănești, a random village I dropped into via Google street view):

Obviously, in the above picture, people will notice if you keep going up and down and all around, but if you walk purposefully enough, and if the village is long enough to not do this enough times, they'll just assume you're running errands.

I don't know what US city plans are like, and if you can get these features easily or not.

But the main point is: find a place that's pretty safe. Separating cars and pedestrians so that you don't end up crossing each other unless you're crossing the street (or the cars are parking). Large roads next to tiny sidewalks, with no trees and no shade, tend to create a feeling of exposure and unsafety, so I kind of hate them (taking the road out of Bucharest in Băneasa; you can see how nobody's walking on that comparatively tiny sidewalk):

Walk with a purpose

If you're worried about people's perceptions, walk like you're going somewhere, and people will assume you've got things to do.

In fact, while I personally am fine just walking around aimlessly, I know people who aren't like that (*cough* my partner *cough*) and who need a Purpose. So I'm always like, "Ta! I'm going out! It is a magical journey and I will establish my route based on whim!" And he's like, "I'm going to go to that place and do that thing."

You can go to the store, if one is in the area. ("I need to buy an orange!") You can go look at someone's tree and try to figure out what it is; if anyone asks (nobody will) you were thinking of planting one yourself. Or maybe wondering if you can have a bonsai of that sort of tree, if you don't have a yard.

If anyone notices you staring at their yard and is wondering what's up (over here, the chances of this happening are very low, but I'm not sure about your area), compliment. People love compliments on things they did. You'll make friends.

Entertainment

I'm a headphone person! I blast music, listen to podcasts or call people when I'm on a walk. This is why I firmly believe in the separation between car and pedestrian: I only need to be careful when crossing the road. Headphones also help with traffic noises. If I write, it's a good moment to think of my characters, if I have something I want to listen to, this is a good time, and if I want to call my parents and have a long talk, it's perfect.

Sometimes, I also go out with my camera and take photos of random things. Birds, houses, trees, bees, cats, flowers, roads, whatever. The walking's slower, but whatever.

And my favorite thing is going on a walk with someone and talking about all sorts of things. You'd be surprised how well walking and talking go together - it's easy to become animated, and to get new ideas when you walk. The Ancient Greeks had a whole name for philosophers who walked and talked (the peripatetics).

Sensitivity!

A lot of things can be mitigated (cold, heat, discomfort), but the great news is that you'll grow more resilient in time. Things that bother you now might become better later, as your body and your mind adjust. Even blisters can become less frequent if you have comfy shoes and feet that are used to walking.

As for bugs... I'm really feeling Arabs, seriously. I think my general discomfort with being touched by odd things is why I tend to cover loads of skin when outside. But even so, the bugs aren't that bad.

Ah, I also have masks, which I sometimes put on to protect myself from pollen/insect swarms.

Treadmills

Boring, UNLESS.

Some of my friends listen to podcasts on a treadmill, but I discovered that I can read on a treadmill, which I can't do when walking in any other context. So that's what I do, even if it's more difficult. Because I'm insane.

You can also listen to music, or, but I've never enjoyed this, watch something.

Sometimes, I set games for myself. I've got a treadmill that can be set at various inclines, so sometimes I'll start at the highest and lower the incline as I go (according to rules I set for myself), or things like that. I've gotten way better at going up and down hills simply because I'm a stubborn ass who wanted the numbers to look pretty in my head.

The point is, find an activity you enjoy doing, and see if it works for you in combination with a treadmill (if you have a treadmill already). I personally wouldn't call anyone while on a treadmill, because those things are noisy, but if it doesn't bother you, that's also a possibility.

Treadmills are especially good when the weather is bad. If it's too cold outside, or too rainy, the treadmill is warm and dry.

Walking's fun and relaxing...

...but that happens when you're used to it. Like any other activity, it can be a bit shitty until you figure out what works for you, and until you build up enough resilience that it's not difficult to do.

What it's got going for it is versatility: you can do things while walking (talking, making up stories, listening to podcasts, taking photos).

And after a while, it gets super-ok. My ankle hurts because I fucked up when sitting at my desk (well... "sitting"... I'm not sure what I'm doing counts as sitting on this chair), and yesterday my ankle hurt, but not so much that I couldn't walk. I went outside three times, for groceries or short walks, and I got over 9700 steps in total (counting walking through the house and whatnot). My ankle is also better today.

Calling my neurospicy/ADHD/autistic siblings with a question:

How do you walk for fun/exercise?

Personally, I've realized that I actually hate walking? For decades I've been trying to force myself to enjoy going for a quick walk around the block because every piece of advice about physical and mental health says "just go for a walk 😊 it's fun and relaxing 😊 anyone can do it 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊"

BUT IT IS NEITHER FUN NOR RELAXING??!?

I present to you the following:

Every window you walk past has the potential for one or more sets of eyes. EYES THAT COULD BE PERCEIVING YOU.*

Hot. Cold. Rain. Wind. Allergies. Insects. INSECTS THAT FOLLOW YOU (fucking horseflies ugh)

Choices must be made. What clothes to wear? No you can't wear the shorts you're wearing because the thighs ride up. Go change. A hat?? Hats look dumb but counterpoint: sun is murdering your eyes. And shoes?!? WHICH SOCKS ARE RIGHT AND PREVENT BLISTERS BUT AREN'T TOO HOT ANSWER ME THIS

Chronic pain????????????

Okay I'm walking, I'm walking, look at the pavement, don't trip over that drainage grate, don't stumble on the loose gravel, god this is so freaking boring ah shit I rolled my ankle on the pavement did anyone see?? Why didn't I wear headphones but headphones are bad because I'm supposed to be enjoying nature™ and if I wear them I can't hear electric cars and I might get in an accident SHIT I rolled my ankle AGAIN

SO HOW DO YOU DO IT??? Are there tips and tricks? Do you just... not walk? Use a treadmill?? How do you make the treadmill not soul-suckingly boring????

(PLEASE no neurotypicals clowning on this post with any "advice" -- your statements have already been noted and accepted into the record. Autistic/ADHD rebuttals are what is being sought here thanks.)

*Do NOT give me that 'no one is looking at you' BS -- YES THEY ARE. I know this because I watch people walking by, and so does my mom and half the neighborhood.

[wastelesscrafts]

INDEX: fast fashion and climate change

Documentaries:

The clothes we wear (Deutsche Welle)

Climate Change 2021: The Physical Science Basis (IPCC)

The true cost (Andrew Morgan)

The truth behind fast fashion - Are fashion retailers honest with their customers? (Deutsche Welle)

Fast fashion - The shady world of cheap clothing (DW Documentary)

Burnout: The truth about overwork and what we can do about it (DW Documentary)

Why Big Oil loves to talk about your carbon footprint (DW Planet A)

Why recycled ocean plastic is (often) a lie (DW Planet A)

Planned Obsolescence Sucks. Here's Why It Still Exists. (Our Changing Climate)

H&M and Zara: can fast fashion be eco-friendly? (DW Planet A)

Shipping Emissions: An invisible industry's impact on the climate (DW Planet A)

Your plastic waste might be traded by criminals (DW Planet A)

Video essays:

Tiktok is kind of bad for fashion (Mina Le) (by Sioltach)

These fast fashion brands are greenwashing (Justine Leconte)

A healthy economy should be designed to thrive, not grow (Kate Raworth)

Lies about clothes to unlearn in your twenties (Leena Norms)

Good news and bad news from the IPCC report (Simon Clark)

5 ways to combat eco-anxiety (Going Zero Waste)

Why sustainable brands HATE people like me (Shelbizleee)

The problem with “it’s all been done before” in fashion (Karolina Żebrowska)

Remembering climate change ... a message from the year 2071 (Kim Stanley Robinson)

The ugly truth of fast fashion (Hasan Minhaj)

Lies you're told about climate anxiety in your twenties (Leena Norms)

Why are COP26 climate talks so hyped? (Climate Adam)

Why don't clothes fit??? (Mina Le)

POV: mend my clothes with me (Leena Norms)

Which brands are “fast fashion”? How to tell (in 4 points) (Justine Leconte)

The History of Standardized Sizes in Womens Fashion and Why They FAILED (Nicole Rudolph)

Poor clothes sizing & why your online returns are in landfills (Ash Tanya)

You Don't NEED $300 Worth of SHEIN | Haul Videos and Hyperconsumerism (Ash Tanya)

You're Thinking about Climate Change WRONG! (ClimateAdam)

Why your 'Carbon Footprint' Is A Lie (Climate Town)

Dear Fashion Influencers... Please Stop (The Sustainable Fashion Guru)

Why No One Wins the Fast Fashion Debate (Broey Deschanel)

Fast Fashion Is Hot Garbage (Climate Town)

How to spot greenwashing and why it matters (Ash Tanya)

How to Find Sustainable Clothes/How To Tell If A Brand Is Sustainable (The Sustainable Fashion Guru)

Corporations Don't Care About You (Or The Planet) (Our Changing Climate)

How Old is Fast Fashion? The Truth about the History of Disposable Clothing (Nicole Rudolph)

Why Circle Skirt when you can Circle OUTFIT? (Morgan Donner)

Lies you're told about spending in your twenties (Leena Norms)

You deserve the right to repair your stuff (TED Talk)

FASHION NOVA, ZARA + many more EXPOSED FOR STEALING DESIGNS (Ash Tanya)

Can shipping go green? (ClimateAdam)

Why I low-key hate the "zero waste" movement... (Shelbizleee)

The horrible aftermath of the SHEIN-pocalypse (Salem Tovar)

Your money is cheating on you with the fossil fuel industry (Climate Town)

Brands that you had NO idea owned other brands (Leena Norms)

QUIT fast fashion in your twenties: here's how (Leena Norms)

The evolution of the clothing haul (Amandamaryanna)

Why are Modern High Heels so Bad? (Nicole Rudolph)

Lies to unlearn about making your own wardrobe (Leena Norms)

Podcasts:

Getting in the Loop (Katie Whalen)

South of 2 Degrees (Brian Barnes)

The Climate Question (BBC)

Clotheshorse (Amanda Lee McCarthy)

Fast fashion and standardised sizing (Clotheshorse podcast)

Outrage + Optimism (Christiana Figueres)

Community, sustainability, and politics:

Repair cafés

European Citizens' Initiative

Fit for 55

Fast Fashion Facts: What you need to know (by forgettingfastfashion-blog and solarpunkfairy)

Climate anxiety (by Hope-for-the-planet)

Too Good To Go (food waste app)

Global climate strike (September 2021)

Climate anxiety and hope

Give-away shops

International Repair Day

Planting trees with Ecosia

Big Oil hearing (28/10/2021)

UN Climate Change Conference (COP26)

Fashion Transparency Index 2021

Ban fossil fuel advertising and sponsorships (ECI)

My Climate Future

COP26 results

The "the average american throws away 81 pounds of clothes a year" myth (by Jihaad, Calmanemone, and others)

Shein's labour law violations

Regeneration.org

IPCC sixth assessment report: part 2

World Meteorological Organisation update (9 May 2022)

Earth Overshoot Day 2022

New IPCC report (March 20, 2023)

(If a link has a Tumblr username in brackets behind it, the link leads to a post I reblogged from someone else instead of a post I wrote myself.)

[ac3id]

“watch and learn,” | 18+

pairings: incel sakusa x fem!reader x ushijima

summary: sakusa gets tired of watching you take advantage of his friend, so he takes matters into his own hands to teach you a lesson. fortunately for him, ushijima feels the same

warnings: noncon, humiliation, voyeurism, anal, hate fucking. 

a/n: this was high-key inspired by @vermiliren​ ‘s sakusa and ushijima concepts,,, love you <3

wordcount.: 4k+

tagging: @minitaureland, @oikawoahh, @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa, @sunshine-fangs​ 

dm to be added/ removed!

Sakusa has a problem.

Well, Sakusa has many problems, but this one in particular manages to drive him crazy.

It makes his blood boil and his cock hard, it’s an irritating itch he just can’t scratch which makes him absolutely mad.

One could say such a problem must be nerve-wracking; something which keeps you up all night wondering how you can overcome it. Maybe it’s family, maybe it’s financial. It must be a big deal, right? But luckily for Sakusa, it’s just you.

His problem is you, his teammate’s girlfriend.

It’s weird. Technically, there should be no reason for him to think of his teammate’s girlfriend as anything but just as another girl but his heart tells him another story.

Whenever he thinks of you, he either imagines punching your beautiful face until it’s stained with wine red blood or shoving his cock down all of your holes which he hears you cry in agony. He imagines filling you up with his cum, clearing you of all your filth. There’s really no in-between, but sometimes he imagines doing it both...in the same order.

But hey! Sakusa is a good guy, he would never do such a thing! He respects women and most certainly he respects you. He obviously doesn’t think you’re a whore or anything for talking to a guy who isn’t your boyfriend, Ushijima. But gosh, even you notch it up a lot.

He rarely ever sees you, only when you arrive at bars uninvited with Ushijima or when you come down to the volleyball tournaments for Ushijima or when you wait for Ushijima while he practices in the stadium or….. When you go down to the grocery store where he just happens to be….multiple times.

Maybe you’re getting food for Ushijima, but he’s sure his teammate’s not going to eat half the junk you buy. Ushijima has a body to maintain, his health is very important to him. All of that fast food is not going to work him any favors.

Don’t you cook for him? You know, like a woman should?

You see, Sakusa is a little old fashioned. He likes tradition and sincerely pesters everyone to follow it. So it’s not a big surprise when he expects the same from you or any female in general. In the past, he’s been called an incel; a man who hates women was it? But that’s definitely not him. He loves them. Especially when they are naked on his computer screen, getting pinned down by a man two sizes bigger than themselves.

Sometimes he imagines you and Ushijma in their place and way more often, he imagines him with you over there instead.

So, see? He doesn’t women. He loves them! But… some women get on his nerves.

Some women like you.

He would never admit this, but Sakusa follows you around only because he does not trust you for Ushijima. Even when Ushi’s around, you flirt with other men while he’s sitting right next to you with his arms wrapped around your shoulder. It gets worse when he is away.

He can always hear you make suggestive comments to the cute cashier in the store while he lurks away. He’s disgusted. He can’t understand why Ushijima still chooses to stay with you.

He’s dating a whore, you don’t care about him- you’re just having your fun. You’ll leave him once it gets over, you don’t like him. But you still have him entranced, so madly in love with you. Sukasa think-no, he knows it’s only because you’re good in bed. There’s no other reason for him to keep you around for so long, being a slut you probably know how to make a man feel good.

Sakusa understands that but it still bothers him. Like a good friend he is, he decides to tell Ushijima about you. It starts in the locker room after practice. Both of them stand together changing out of their sports gear, it was a tiring day, and the two men were tired. He’s surprised when Ushijima starts the conversation, midday through changing his shirt, he starts.

“So, what do you think of her?” Sakusa knows who he is talking about, you had come into the stadium that day to watch Ushijima practice, and he had spent the better half of his time glaring daggers and staring at you. Sakusa says your name cluelessly, “Yes, her.” Ushijima replies.

Sakusa clicks his tongue, “I think-” “Cut the bullshit, you’re fucking her aren’t you?”

Ushijima turns to him, his eyes dark and fatal. A frown rests on his face with his fists balled as if to throw a punch. Sakusa panics, not understanding why such an accusation could fall over his head.

“No- I- that’s not true!” he clarifies but Ushijima looks unmoved, “Then why the fuck do you keep looking at her?” the murderous glint in his eyes doesn’t disappear as he just gets angrier. A newfound fear forms within Sakusa, he had always respected Ushijima as a player and a man, he sure as hell didn’t want to start a fight with the green-haired man. He spills everything he knows, everything he’s seen.

The night when he spotted you kissing Atsumu, the relentless flirting, everything. It’s brutal, it breaks Ushijima’s heart but a necessary evil. He watches Ushijima’s spirit break when his eyes turn blank. He stares motionlessly on the floor, thinking. Sakusa feels the rage return, he’s so mad at you- how could you do this to anyone? All of you are the same, all women are the same but….but you are the worst!

Sakusa waits for a moment before speaking, “You can’t let her get away with this,” he starts. Ushijima looks up at him, listening diligently to his plan. “You should take revenge, don’t let her get away with this.” Revenge?

Ushijima’s eyes lit up at the word, many thoughts came into his mind when Sakusa said it. Revenge? Should he also kiss any of your friends behind your back? Should he be cold towards you? The idea of making you realize just how much you hurt him by lettering you experience the pain excited him. He loved you, he did but sometimes drastic measures have to be taken. “What should I do?” he asked impatiently, he wanted to find a way to fix his deteriorating relationship.

Sakusa pauses, his mind racing back to the many porn clips he has fapped to before and settling on which the big boyfriend destroys his little girlfriend’s pussy for cheating on him. “I’ll send a video.”

Later that night Ushijima receives a link from Sakusa, titled ‘boyfriend punishes girlfriend for cheating.’

- 

“Wakatoshi?” you bask in confusion at the man standing next to your boyfriend at the front door. It was late at night and you were almost going to bed. Ushijima had texted you telling he’d be home late that night but you had managed to catch him just in time. You were not expecting his teammate to come along with him, though.

It was awkward, dressed only in some sleep shorts and Ushijima welcoming Sakusa in the house was weird. He never seemed to take his eyes off of you, you were genuinely creeped out. You let the two men talk in the living room while you headed to the kitchen to prepare them a little snack. They said they had already eaten but umm...hospitality? It was fine to both of them, they liked you better in the kitchen anyway.

“Have you tried a threesome before?” Sakusa asked, taking a seat. It was finally the day Ushijima was going to man up and teach you a lesson which you’d never forget. “No, I don’t like to share,” he replied. Sakusa nodded, “understandable.” they stood quiet for a second only for your humming to fill the room. Even though you were in the kitchen, your sweet melody still ringed till the other room. Ushijima threw Sakusa a knowing glance before he made his way to the kitchen to see you. Heading over next to you, he sized down your form.

Ushijima took a step forward, trapping you between the kitchen counter and his huge body. You bring your hands to his chest, keeping him at a distance from you and just feeling his warmth under your palms. You did this often, it wasn’t anything sexual. You just enjoyed feeling him under your fingertips.

“So, what’s his deal?” you ask, your voice low not to alert Sakusa sitting in the living room. It was late, very late. There was no reason for Ushijima to bring a friend over now, but if Sakusa needed a place to spend the night- that was a different story.

“He will go in sometime,” Ushijima answered back, his huge, warm palms caressing your cheeks. You lean into the touch as he looks down at you affectionately with pure innocent eyes until he can’t. The spell you have him under breaks and he remembers why Sakusa is here.

His thumb trails down to your lips, pushing against the soft and pillow-like features. You look at him in confusion, Surprised by his bold actions. Ushijima was a private person, seeing him act so suggestively while another man sat right in the next room shocked you...but you liked it.

You obediently open your mouth letting his digits enter your hot carven. A tingle of a dull, throbbing pull settles on your tongue as you frown. Looking up at Ushijima through your lashes, you watch him glare at you while he pinches your tongue between his two fingers.

You whine out, there was no lie that you like it rough but the unsettling expression on Ushijima's face frightened you.

“Do you remember the last time we went out for drinks with the team?” your eyes widened and your blood ran cold, you knew exactly what he was getting at. “Nod your fucking head, bitch.” his pinch grew tighter making you squeal harder and you hastily nodded. You heard footsteps ring as Sakusa appeared into the room. Turning your eyes to his immediately, asking him for assistance. You hope to see a reaction out of Sakusa, disgust at most- he’d tell you both to cut it out but Sakusa stood still with an unreadable expression. Was he not going to say anything?

Ushijima caught your attention back by pinching your tongue hard, once again. drool pooled in your mouth, slowly leaking past your lips. It was disgusting.

“That night, did you kiss Atsumu?”

He knew. This is why he was doing this, you could understand that, but why was Sakusa just watching?

Your gaze lowered to the floor and Ushijima let his fingers leave you, letting you talk. You kept your head down as you spoke. it was too heartbreaking, you knew you should have told Ushijima but for some reason you never did. you were sacred Ushijima would leave you.

“That night, Atsumu came onto me…. when you left me with him that day, he kissed me- I didn’t want him to..he just…” shaky breaths leave your lips as you recall the dreadful incident. Atsumu was drunk that night, he wasn’t thinking straight. He apologized to you sincerely the next day but the damage was done. you could still feel his uninvited touches roaming all over your body when he tried to grope you.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Ushijima turned to sakusa, the glare which was burning you now directed at him. Ushijima was furious at sakusa for accusing you but sakusa knew what he saw. he frowned at you, he remembers seeing you kissing the blonde back- you’re just lying now, trying to get out of this mess.

“She’s lying, I knew what I saw. don’t trust her,”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Who do you think you are?”

You scream at him with angry, glassy eyes immediately turning to Ushijima and begging him to not believe the dark-haired man. Sakusa watches you with calculating eyes, revising his next move. He knows he’s not going to let you go so easily, there’s only one reason he’s here tonight. And that’s to put a whore in her place, he’s not leaving until he gets a taste of you.

He starts again, “don’t listen to her, Ushijima. listen to me, I have no reason to lie to you I’m your friend.” He chooses his words carefully to manipulate Ushijima into siding with him.

Ushijima stares at you for a second before grabbing your wrist harshly, “it’ll be okay,” he whispers your name, pulling you along with him. you scream at him, trying to pull your hand out of his grasp as he thrusts your forward.

“Toshi’ stop. seriously, no. stop,” you cry and beg but he shows no mercy. He pulls you into your shared bedroom, throwing you on your shared bed. Sakusa quietly follows, locking the door behind him as he enters. “What should I do now?” Ushijima turns to sakusa who stands next to the door, his eyes run towards you and he watches you cowering on the bed. You curl yourself up, pushing your knees to your chest and burying your head in between. You sit at the edge of the bed, far away from the two men quiring in fear and dread. Sakusa had thought you’d be putting up more of a fight but seems like you knew your place. Besides there was no way you’d manage to win against the two giants, they’d crush you even before you can try.

“Do you not remember the video?” Sakusa asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening a porn site. He clicks on the video he had forwarded to Ushijima, the video starts normally; a man talking to his supposed girlfriend but he skips the clip forward to the part he wants to see.

“You seriously want me to do that to her?” Ushijima asks, frowning at the screen. The porn actress is bent over the actor’s lap as he showers her bottom with powerful slaps. Blistering her ass and making her cry.

Sakusa nods. Ushijima looks bad at your quivering form before whispering, “like a child?”

Truth to be told, Sakusa knew Ushijima was a softie and that he cared about your feelings. That was the difference between him and the ace. He loved you and he loved you a little too much, you were the first thing swimming in his mind and it may be defined by some as romantic, Sakusa thought differently.

The thought disgusted him, caring so much about a mere woman; the man has to be crazy. Don’t get it wrong, Sakusa loves women so much he’s cornering you like this but he also firmly believes that women have duties. And by what he can see between you and Ushijima, you’re not fulfilling them at all and Ushijima is too much of a pussy to make you fix your mistakes.

He’s just helping his bro out. xx

Sakusa doesn’t answer him, instead, he looks at him with a fixed glare. Ushijima clicks his tongue, he didn’t want to hit his girlfriend like a child but he didn’t want to disrespect his friend either. He thinks for a moment before turning to you, making up his mind he chooses to spank you. A small smile of satisfaction crosses on Sakusa’s face as he watched Ushijima approach you.

His knee dips down on the bed as he moves forward to get you, “Toshi’ please, I will never, never talk to any guy ever again. You don’t need to do this.” you beg. Your eyes are glassy and your face is flushed from crying. You look up at your boyfriend with pleading eyes, hoping he’d listen to you. Ushijima stops in his tracks, hesitating to get you. He thinks about, maybe he should let you-

“Ushijima.”

Sakusa’s stern voice pulls him back to reality, he clicks his tongue and grabs you by your arm pulling you with him to the opposite edge of the bed. You keep crying and begging but Ushijima doesn’t bat an eye as he pulls you over his lap. He presses his hand against your back to keep you from running away while the other paws at your sleeping shorts.

“Stop screaming,” Sakusa commands, but you never listen to him. “Is this okay?” Ushijima flashes Sakusa a perfect view of your naked ass, your panties, and discarded on the floor. Sakusa walks over, standing in front of Ushijima, he leans in to grab a handful of your ass but Ushijima pushes his hand away. “No touching,” he commands.

As if they put salt on the wound, Ushijima moves along to fondle your ass. Playing with the soft flesh, squeezing them, spreading them all to his liking. A small smile grazes his face and for the first time, he realizes how much smaller you are compared to him. It makes him feel mighty, he loves the power he holds over you right now. The thoughts about what he can do to you flow straight to his cock. You feel his ever-growing bulge poke at your stomach under his pants.

Sakusa picks up your panties from the floor and right over in front of you, he grabs your face with his hands, squishing cheeks before shoving the panties into your mouth shutting you up once and for all. Ushijima throws him a glare but decides to ignore it eventually. His hands roam over your back one last time before he brings it up into the air and slams it down onto your round ass swiftly.

You cry out in pain, your bare ass stinging and burning. You hope for your boyfriend to calm down but he doesn’t give you a break, repeatedly hitting your ass with no sign of mercy. You cry and wither around, mumbling words that get muffled behind the gag making it impossible for any of them to understand.

Sakusa patiently watches the scene in front of him, you’re crying in pain while Ushijima spanks you. It’s kind of like the scenes he always fantasized about, the only difference being it’s him who’s raining down slaps on your naked ass instead of Ushijima.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“What?”

Sakusa wants to touch you, he wants to feel you under him. He’s not going to let himself watch you both doing it all night while he stands at the side with a raging boner and besides, Ushijima wasn’t hitting you hard enough. He pauses, looking up at Sakusa and you sigh in relief.

“You’re hitting her hard enough, at this rate she’ll never fear you,” he taunts and you frown. Your ass was already painfully red and swollen, you couldn't imagine how much longer you’d last.

In a flash, Ushijima pulled you on your feet, holding you by your arm. “You do it. I’m not enjoying this,” Sakusa’s eyes light up and he holds his urge to smile, he does not want to out himself.

“Watch and learn,”

He quietly walks over and changes roles, you squirm in his grip shaking your head no. You did not want to left under Sakusa’s touch at all, you had a feeling he hated you- which he did. He pulled you over his thighs where you could feeling his raging boner hit your stomach and just like Ushijima he started slapping your ass swiftly faster and much harder than your boyfriend.

They come without any warnings one after the other. You feel yourself tapping out now and then but a swift, harsh pull to your hair did just fine in waking you back into the nightmare. After Sakusa was done with abusing your ass, he started rubbing and playing with you. He squeezed your cheeks making you wince, spreading it open staring at your pulsing hole. His fingers even slipped down lower, dangerously close to your cunt.

“Sakusa,” Ushijima’s heavy voice cut through and Sakusa immediately lifted his hands off you. He pushed you down on the bed and removed the panties he had stuffed into your mouth. You coughed, your throat hoarse and your body exhausted.

Your bottom was numb, you could not feel a thing and your body was on fire. Ushijima called out to you, caressing your cheek. “Are you okay?” Ushijima felt bad. In all honesty, he did not want to hurt you but hearing the things Sakusa had said to him about you and what you did when he was not around made him feel like a small man, a man with no pride. It bothered him so he listens to Sakusa. He seemed to know what he was doing but now he sat filled with regrets.

Sakusa slapped Ushijima’s hand away from your face, “She’s fine. We aren’t done yet.”

Sakusa pulled you closer to him and ripped your shirt off your body, squeezing your tits and rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers. Ushijima dragged you back to him, at this point both the men were using you like a rag doll, literally. “I’m fucking her pussy.” he declared. You whined as he made you sit down on the bed but quickly switched positions so that you were straddling his thigh. You could see the dent in his jeans propped up, begging to be released. “What? Am I supposed to take her ass? That’s gross.” “You can use her mouth too,”

That was even grosser, Sakusa wanted to fuck your pussy. No doubt he’d love to ruin your ass and your mouth but today he wanted your pussy. He opened his mouth to speak but was immediately speechless when he saw Ushijima making out with you. He kisses you so passionately, your lips molding together, his tongue going down your throat. For a moment it felt like he wasn’t going to rape you here and now. Hell, maybe you are even enjoying this.

He scoffs, unbuckling his belt he walks behind you, settling for your ass. He feels like a third wheel, watching Ushijima kiss you so lovingly; licking your neck and biting down your tits making you moan.

He lifts you, spreading your cheeks, presenting your gaping hole to Sakusa. “You can go first,” he offers. Your start squirming around once again trying to free yourself from him. “Please, Wakatoshi no it will hurt. Please don’t-” “Shut up, bitch” Sakusa comes behind you, his hands closing around your petit neck. He squeezes around the soft flesh, effectively shutting you up. Out of desperation, you look up at Ushijima with watery eyes only to see him glaring at Sakusa. He slaps away Sakusa’s hand away from your neck, “Careful, she’s not yours’ bro.” his voice is filled with sarcasm. Sakusa scoffs moving back, “is she yours though? Sucking up to every guy ever who gives her an ounce of attention? Hate break it to you but your girl’s a whore, dude.” Sakusa returns. Sitting in the room with a hard-on, they glare at each other. Co-operating with Ushijima was harder than Sakusa thought and Ushijima much more possessive than he seemed.

The longer he stared with Sakusa with murderous intentions, the more fragile his grip on you became. Once you spotted it was weak enough, you broke out of it made for a run.

‘Fuck!” Ushijima screamed and chased after you with Sakusa following. You don’t get far, they catch you in the corridor. Ushijima pushes you against the wall, his hand coming up to grab your jaw making you look at him. ‘One fucking thing [y/n]. I told you it’ll be over fucking soon, didn’t I?” he slaps your face once. “It’s all your fault anyway. If it weren’t for you whoring out there like a fucking slut you wouldn’t be in this situation.” he slaps you twice, ouch. You plead guilty, promising him you’d never do it again but after repeated denials, you change your request. You choke back sobs as you try to calm your uneven breathing, “You can do anything you want to me but...just not him, please.” you turn to Sakusa shaking like a leaf. You didn’t want that man to be near you, nevertheless, touch you.

Ushijima thinks for a moment, turning to Sakusa. He thinks long and hard before answering, “It will be okay.” he says before pushing you against Sakusa. He didn’t want to give you up but you know what they say...Bros before Hos. Sakusa catches you roughly and pins you against his chest. He wraps his arm around your waist, letting the other pulls his pants down and pull his throbbing cock out of his briefs. It stands tall, not as thick as Ushijima but he’s big. With the red tip leaking with pre, he gives it a pump.

“Hold her legs,” he commands. Ushijima walks up to the two of you with his huge cock out and leaking, he wastes no time in grabbing one of your legs and pushing it up.

He lines his tip with your dry hole, “that’s enough foreplay, now,” he slowly truths inside, breaching past your cute cunt, splitting you into two. A burning pain flashes through you, slowly getting replaced by pleasure. Your tight cunt sucks up around his cock, salivating as he hits deeper and deeper. Sakusa gets tired of watching as he pushes his tips past your rim making you scream out. The intrusion is weird and unfamiliar, the deeper he goes the more evident it becomes. Sakusa decides to show you some mercy when he flicks down your little clit, pulsing with need. All of a sudden you start withering with pleasure, completely forgetting about the compromising position you are in.

“Fuck.” Ushijima mutters, your moans a melody to his ears. “Fuckin whore likes this,” Sakusa wanted you to shut up, your moans were turning him off. Sakusa felt he was close. Your walls hugging him snuggly, trying to milk him for all he’s worth but he doesn’t want to give up yet. There's an unspoken competition between the two men; whoever can last longer and his pride won’t let him loose. He holds himself together for a little longer, hoping for Ushijima to come before him.

“Don’t cum inside,” the green-haired man commands. He is close, his thrusts hit sloppy and uneven. He bits down on your neck as he shoots his thick, white load into your womb cumming with a loud grunt. Sakusa follows soon after, his length twitching he pulls it out of you. He jerks his cock over and cums all over your back.

He lets go of you, and you fall onto Ushijima, your boyfriend's strong arms wrapping around you to steady you up. “You should leave,” he suggests. He pulls his dick back into his pants and walks to the door, throwing a glance behind his shoulder; he sees Ushi stripping out his shirt and dressing you with him. He scoffs and turns around, feeling disgusted he can’t wait to go back to his own home and take a fucking shower. Even though he finally gets what he had wanted, he can’t help but feel unsatisfied. It would have been much better if it was just him and you minus the possessive freak, maybe….he can come again when Ushijima is not around….What’s the worst which could possibly happen?

[liminal-ladyy]

"It's far more affordable"

https://www.businessinsider.com/shein-average-shopper-spends-100-month-womens-clothing-2023-6?op=1

The average shein shopper spends 100$ a month on clothes. If you've ever lived on real poverty wages, you aren't spending 100$ a month on clothes.

As also stated in the article, the average income for users is 63,500. While that may not be the most nowadays its far away from "poverty" wages and is definitely an income amount that can afford sustainable clothing.

To act like thrifting or buying used is inaccessible is simply ridiculous. I've lived in both medium sized cities and tiny rural towns In both locations thrifting was easily accessible. I can't imagine the situation being worse in large metros. To act like thrifting is "adjusting to unfair conditions" is also to put blanky dumb. Do you know how much textile waste is created by the fast fashion industry? Buying used should be encouraged no matter what! To buy new in the first place shouldn't ever be encouraged unless absolutely necessary! The textile waste we are producing is killing our planet.

https://www.unep.org/news-and-stories/story/environmental-costs-fast-fashion

While this is a general issue with the textile industry ingeneral, I'd argue fast fashions continuous use of polyester and other plastics instead of natural fibers makes it the absolute worst offender in the industry. These clothes are made to fall apart in five weeks on your body, but lasts in the environment for thousands of years.

Nobody deserves brand new clothes at the expense of slave labor. I'd say this includes large amounts of U.S made brands that profit off prison labor as well, Shein is just the best example for how a large amount of this isn't poverty, it's clothes that are falling apart and aren't made to last. Clothes that only exists to fit in tiny trend cycles and are meant to be disposed of after.

You can say I hate poor people. I make half what the average shein user makes 🤷‍♀️. Yet somehow I still thrift and buy used for as much of my wardrobe as possible. Thrifting and buying used has never been more accessible, with chains, local thrifts, clothing swaps, and even digital used clothes retailers entering the fray such as depop, poshmark, etc(though id like to add the massive resell market does damage to these retailers as an affordable option it is also quite easy to find good deals especially if you know where to look) it has never been easier to get good quality clothing used as it is now.

You want a solution to this? Making quality clothes more affordable is definitely part of the puzzle. But theyre not the most out of reach thing in the world as of right now. it's a cultural consumerist mindset that encourages the existance of fast fashion brands, not poverty wages.

And yes, let's talk about supporting poor people. How about the poor people working in these factories for slave wages? The poverty in the imperial core is bad. But what about those in which we extract wealth? Who's poverty is defined as more important? When you buy clothes from shein, where do you think the cheap prices come from? The money comes from somewhere, and that's worker wages. If you genuinely think you can't afford anything other than fast fashion, look into local mutual aid and charity resources. Most mid sized cities and even smaller ones have orgs for clothing.

At the end of the day this is a mindset that prioritizes the comfort of those of us in the imperial core, far more than the actual victims. You don't need new clothes every week, you don't need them every month. Even seasonally clothes can be managed easily with smart wardrobe decisions. You don't ever need to shop fast fashion. You need to reanalyize the way you consume and shop for clothes and how you define "need." And sure, maybe SOMEONE out there needs to shop from shein to get the clothes they need, but is the environmental damage worth it to drive an industry that focuses entirely on trend cycles so one person living in poverty can get some clothes that could be gotten someplace else if Shein and other fast fashion companies didn't have such a foothold on the market?

Wish people would center poverty more when they talk about things that are clearly a byproduct of unfair wealth distribution and unfair opportunities and unfair conditions and just being dealt a shit hand instead of just demonizing the byproduct without going into how it affects people that have been victimized by it

[prankprincess123]

I know intellectually that most women are insecure about their bodies at multiple points in their life, and that it merely being a teenage girl thing is a untrue stereotype. But as a teenager is when I was the most confident about my body.

Between 12 and 16yo I grew 6in and 60lbs; I went from a 5'2" 60lbs matchstick to 5'8" 120lbs and able to carry around someone equal my weight for an hour and barely notice. I had a six pack, could swim an entire lap before I needed to come up for air, was training for triathlons 6 days a week, and considered a 10km bikeride a light workout. I was ripped, had great hair, and rarely ever had pimples. I was absolutely stunning, and I knew it. I even worked in the fashion industry one summer.

But now I'm in my 20s, and physically can't exercise anywhere near how much I want to. I got whats called walking pneumonia, that the doctors didn't identify till I'd been sick for 6 months, at which point I'd coughed so hard I'd broken 3 ribs and had severe scarring in my lungs that I'm still in physio for 8y later. I messed up my knee in a biking accident, and 7y later the doctors still don't know what I did or how to fix it beyond prescribing more physio. Add in several concussions, and you guessed it more physio each time, as well as increasing lengths of time before being allowed to go back to sports. And then a severely broken elbow, and yep, more physio! And between school eating my time and the pain from these injuries, physiotherapy often ends up the only regular exercise I get. I've both gained weight and lost insane amounts of muscle. The muscles in my right arm especially atrophied after being in various casts and slings for 3 months this year. Even with both arms I couldn't even lift my 7yo brother (🐻) from the lake onto the boat this summer, and almost cried. Intelectually I know I'm still gorgeous regardless, and I know I'm still fairly fit even, and my clothing sizes haven't even changed just how they fit has, but I've never been more insecure about my body in my life.

It used to be that even the most fitted shirt on me was tight in the arms and shoulders and giant in the torso, and now I'm purposely picking baggy shirts and/or high waisted jeans to try and hide the little bit of a tummy I now have. I used to be super proud of the stretch marks on my thighs because they were from how much my muscles grew, but seeing them on sagging flab rather than tight muscle makes me shy away from wearing swimsuits without shorts or a skirt overtop.

And I hate it.

Not in a body shaming way, cause dang can you look good with any body shape/size if you carry yourself with pride and know how to dress for your body, but in that I don't feel like ME anymore with my new figure.

And I know I physically can't be exercising the same way or amounts anymore, and that's why my body composition has drastically changed, but that almost makes it worse because I can't do anything to fix it. I'm vibrating with energy I need to burn, but I can't. I'm starving for the endorphins and dopamine rush of a good workout, but I can't. I'm uncomfortable in my own skin and desperately want to fix it and know exactly how to, but I can't. I need to be able to move - fast and constantly - for both my mental and physical health, but I can't. And it is so freaking painful that I can't.

[inkandpen22]

Permanent Chaos (4/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mild swearing

Part Summary: While Y/N is out shopping with Cara, news breaks that ties her with MGK. 

Masterlist

Masterlist

Two days later...

Cara and I go out shopping and have lunch for a girl’s day. I have yet to talk about the other night with Sam. Cara hasn’t mentioned it and I have no plans to either. Cameras have followed us up and down Rodeo Drive. By this point, Cara and I are both used to it. Carrying my bags however, I doubt I look graceful for these videos their taking. Oh well, they have fifteen thousand more of me.

“CARA! EXCITED TO WALK IN THE CHANEL FASHION SHOW?”

Cara ignores the paparazzi and points out a dress in the window at Dolce and Gabbana. I request to go inside to try it on. I’m not sure where I’d wear it to, but that doesn’t really matter.

“Welcome ladies!” A woman in a black dress approaches. “Can I help you find anything in particular?”

I point over to the dress in the window, “could I see that in a size six please?”

She leaves us to go find the dress for me and we roam around a small section while she does. My phone rings and I see Nicole’s name pop up. My heart immediately begins to race. She doesn’t call me unless absolutely necessary, usually we text. I step away toward the corner to be discreet.

I answer the call hesitantly. “Nicole? What’s up?”

“I got a call from Stephanie,” she sounds agitated on the other end.

Stephanie is my publicist, she handles everything that Nicole can’t basically. They bicker a lot since they’re both so headstrong and constantly need control. It’s the classic good cop/bad cop scenario, yet I don’t know who’s who. These two cover every aspect of my career, God bless them.

“Oh no, sounds bad,” I grumble anxiously.

“Depends how you look at it,” she lightens her tone.

“What is it?” I press.

“Well…” she hesitates.

“Nicole!” I drag out her name.

“It’s all over social media, magazines and it will be on TMZ tonight,” she stammers. “I’m surprised you haven’t already heard if I’m being honest-”

“Nicole! What?” I rush her.

“An article about you and Colson Baker just dropped on some gossip sight,” she explains. “It says that you and Colson Baker are dating. Stephanie and I figured no one would believe it but it’s everywhere! They have videos and photos of you two leaving The Ivy plus talking by Sam’s car. If I didn’t know you, I would be convinced.”

My head hangs low as I rub my forehead, letting out a deep sigh. “Oh dear God.”

“We can handle it, don’t worry!” Nicole assures. “This story will be gone soon!”

“I need to go, talk to you later!” I hang up on Nicole right when the woman shows me the dress.

“I’ll take it” I attempt to hurry up the process.

Cara comes up next to me “don’t you think you should try it on first?”

“I’ll explain later but we need to go” I whisper to her and just like that, she’s hurry the woman along at the register.

I have the dress and exit the store in a rush. I must act cool, the paparazzi will take notice of my mood change.

“HOW’S COLSON, Y/N?”

“SEEING HIM TONIGHT?”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN DATING?”

“HOW ARE GONNA HANDEL HIS FANS?”

“HAS HE MET THE FAMILY YET?”

“What’s going on?” Cara asks concerned.

“I’ll explain once we’re somewhere private,” I whisper so the cameras don’t pick up on it.

We speed walk to the car and I offer to drive since I made us cut the day short. Once we’re on the highway towards home Cara asks what the heck is going on.

“Why did they keep asking about Colson?”

I turn on the radio and Elvis Duran, along with his team, are discussing no other than me and Colson.

Danielle summarizes the article for the listeners. “The article says they’ve been dating for the past few months. They’re very happy but the relationship is still new. The pair has not yet met each other’s families but Colson is going on tour soon so maybe Y/N will join him and eventually meet the family. Throughout, there are tons of photos of the cute young couple leaving The Ivy Wednesday night. There’s even a link to a video showing them, what appears to be, having a deep conversation by Sam Merka’s car. If you watch the video, the two are clearly looking at each other very lovingly. I mean, he’s looking at her the way I look at a fresh pizza!”

The rest of the cast laughs and I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Actually, scratch that, I can believe it. I’m just pissed.

“If MGK and Y/N are officially an item, why did she leave with Sam Merka?” Elvis questions.

“I’m glad you asked! According to sources, they’ve been very close friends since the start of TSL. In fact, the duo have taken many vacations together along with their co-star Penelope Glass.”

Cara turns down the volume and looks to me with a steady expression. “Is it true?”

I narrow my gaze at her in bewilderment. “What? No! There’s no way in hell!”

“Okay, just checking,” she lets out a sigh of relief.

“Never ever!” I add and change the station.

Colson Baker is everything I despise in a person. I’ve never hated someone so fast as I’ve hated him. Us together as a couple is impossible. It’s completely irrational.

_________________________________________________________

Later in the afternoon, Stephanie sets up a meeting for us to meet with Colson and his publicist. I had to drag myself to her office. My Fridays aren’t well spent in an office building with enemies. In fact, my whole day could be tarnished by this incident. The meeting room we’re all ushered into is freezing and I’m still in my sundress from earlier. Cara and I were never able to get lunch so I’m starving on top of being cold. The photos of us play in a slideshow on the meeting room’s tv. An endless cycle of false advertisement is how I see the photos. The media is selling us as something completely far from the truth. On top of everything, I’m in a meeting with the one guy in all of Los Angeles I can’t stand. Death would be less painful than the current situation. I tune out the debate between Stephanie and Colson’s publicist. He told me his name but my brain is so numb from the temperature in here I can’t recall it.

“Y/N!” Stephanie calls my name and I search for her around the room until I find her in the doorway with Colson’s publicist.

“We’re going to go make a few phone calls. You two will stay here while we handle the press.” I nod “sounds good.”

I send her a weak smile to charm her out of an apology for zoning out. She huffs and escorts Colson’s guy to her office so they can talk on speaker privately. I stand up from my office chair and stroll over to the windows overlooking the courtyard. I watch the cars zoom by on the street and businessmen and women shuffle in and out of the Starbucks below.

“If it means anything, I’m sorry,” Colson says quietly behind me.

I nearly miss it, he speaks so quietly. I lean against the wall, crossing my arms as I face him.

“You’re sorry?” I shrug, not really seeing his blame. “Why? It’s not your doing.”

I return my gaze to the chaos below us. I watch as people with office jobs travel about. I wonder if they’ve heard of me? I wonder if they like me or think I’m a stuck up actress? I shouldn’t care what people think, but it’s easier said than done. When millions watch TSL every week, it’s hard to ignore the wondering.

“If I hadn’t walked you to the car none of this would be happening,” Colson reasons guiltily.

I shake my head, finding humor in the situation now. The paparazzi can make nothing into a months long romance. A brief conversation outside a restaurant and suddenly we’re meeting each other’s families.

“We were only walking to a car. How could either of us have predicted the amount of attention that would come of us walking?” I justify, not to ease his mind, but my own.

My flicker over to the tv, I examine the slideshow of us. Examining the photos I realize it wasn’t all in my head, the way in which Colson was gazing at me is a tad bit gawk-like. Images of us walking to the car while I’m answering the paparazzi’s questions depict Colson glancing at me with what seems to be such admiration. A picture of when Cara calls for Colson comes up and I’m stunned by how we look. Even I appear to be in awe of him in return. It’s evident Cara is speaking yet neither of us react. We were so caught up within on another.

“I have one question!” I blurt out suddenly with my arms crossed I walk back over to the table. Just one and then I wish to put all of today’s events to rest.” Colson perks up and hums for me to continue. I point over to the photos on the screen “why did you look at me the way you did?”

Turning his head, he reviews the photos blankly and I wait anxiously for some sort of reason. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way,” he disregards my accusations.

I chuckle, amused by his horrible way of lying. “Lies!”

He’s thrown off by my reaction and I storm over to the TV screen to point it out to him.

“It’s clear as day to the press, the public and now me included. You’re clearly lost in some kind of thought! You were there, so was I and our friends! Say all the lies you want but you’ll never convince anyone.”

His jaw clenches and he avoids my gaze. He leans back in his chair, staring out the windows. “Colson,” I sigh, slowly approaching the table. “Maybe the truth could help the lies disappear! If we’re honest then maybe the press will leave us alone!”

He shakes his head low, letting out a brief laugh. “I highly doubt that.”

I have a thousand questions but I’m aware none will go answered. He’s a lost cause. I’m in this alone I guess. Turning my back to him I return to my position by the window. Observing the worker bees swarming around the spaces below. The sound of Colson’s chair rolling back comes from behind me but I don’t even shift. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his figure in the reflection of the window beside me. My attention remains outside. He won’t give me the time of day so why should I treat him any better?

“You wanna know why I looked at you the way I did?” His presence hovers of me and he feels like a wall surrounding me.

“Please,” I mutter a subtle beg.

 “I... I had this imagine of you in my head, pre-judgements. You’re supposed to be America’s Sweetheart, Little Miss Perfect! You told me you had been working for this for years, had drive and trails.” He confesses. “You’re not what I expected... It caught me by surprise is all.” 

My eyebrows furrow close, “So you thought I was just some pretty face, goody-two-shoes, ditz? If it’s because my image, my past, you said so yourself it doesn’t matter!” 

“No, no, that’s not it!” he runs his hand through his hair nervously.

Narrowing my eyes, I press further. “Why then?”

The door swings open and I straighten up before forcing a warm smile to my face. I step back from Colson before the person ever appears in the doorframe. One of Stephanie employees informs us that we’re free to go. Steph doesn’t want to keep me here all day and since I’m allowed to go Colson’s publicist is releasing him. I clasp my hand together, walking over to fetch my purse.

“Thank you so much!” I gush. “Have a good day and please tell Stephanie “thank you!””

The young intern eats up my pleasant expressions. “You too Miss Voss! Will do!”

The young woman shuts the door behind her and I return to the state I was in. Expressionless, I gather my belongings and Colson does the same. Checking my phone for any missed emails or calls I can tell he’s staring me down.

“Does it ever get tiring?” His tone is light, but I can hear the ounce of mockery beneath the surface.

My attention is locked on my phone as text after text pops up from Penelope. She’s more likely than not has seen all the articles and Twitter posts. I should call her and explain.

“Y/N!” Colson shout pulls my from my thoughts.

“Huh? Does it ever get tiring?” I restate his question back to him. “What exactly are we talking about?”

I slide my purse over my shoulder while stepping over to the door, leaving Colson behind. That is until he follows me.

“Your whole act.” He forces a fake smile and tosses imaginary hair over his shoulder. “The “happy go-lucky goody goody All-American girl?””

I scoff, eyeing him up and down. “You’re ridiculous. It’s not an act.”

I swing open the meeting room door, eager to leave here. My heels clink against the white shiny tiles on my walk to the elevators. After hitting the down button, I call up Blake now that I have some time to kill. She’s my oldest friend, I’m sure she sees right through all of the tabloids and is only checking in.

“Calling your boyfriend?” Colson mutters over my shoulder and I quickly move away.

“Don’t have one,” I answer plainly, waiting for Penelope to pick up.

He smirks and props himself up against the wall beside the elevator doors. I side eye him, all he does is smile all the time and he calls me out for acting so happy all the time.

“Can’t you find anyone else to annoy?”

He grins proudly, “sure I could. None would as entertaining as you though.”

“Geez,” I mumble under my breath.

I pace outside the elevators as I wait for one to arrive and for Penelope to answer. Classic of her to text me non-stop but not to answer when I call her back. The elevator doors open and I step inside, ready to get out of here. I hit the ground floor and Colson strolls in lazily not rushed at all. He checks the button and doesn’t add any. The doors shut then silence sits flat in the small space with us. My phone buzzes continuously, I check the name at the top of the screen.

“Frickin’ frackin’!” I clench my teeth together in a growl.

Colson’s eyes widen at my sudden explosion. Closing my eyes, I exhale to calm myself then bring the phone up to my ear. Smiling helps to fake enjoyment when talking to someone on the phone. Sometimes I can fool myself into thinking I’m not miserable during discussions.

“Finn!” I greet. “What’s new?”

My southern accent surfaces. I flip the switch whenever I speak to my family or friends back in South Carolina. I can’t have them thinking I’m not the same Y/N from Charleston. Colson eyes me with his eyebrows raised, surprised by my sudden transition. He makes fun of me in a whisper for my fake enthusiastic voice. I wack him on the arm and it only encourages him more.

“Hi ya Y/N, uh so ya prolly already know butcha face is everywhere along with this MGK fella...” Finn’s voice falters at the end.

I sigh and press my forehead to the wall. Finn asks me if any of what he has read is true and I instantly deny.

My tone goes timid, “who all knows?”

“Just us, Odelle, Greyson and Myself,” he assures.

A sense of relief rushes over me. I turn back around and Colson sends me a sympathetic look, it shocks me. Going from mockery to sympathy from him has my entire mood shifting.

“What ‘bout Momma or Daddy?” I ask, keeping eye contact with Colson.

“Nah, at least I don’t think they do,” Finn guesses. “I’m not entirely sure. Greyson is sayin’ they don’t. He’s the only one that’s home at the moment.”

“Heavens to Betsy,” I exhale deeply, looking up to the heavens. “Let’s hope to the high heavens they don’t. Thank you Finn.”

I go to hang up but he says one last thing. Bringing my phone back up to my ear I reply. “Sorry, missed that.”

My brother becomes stern on the other side, “do you and this guy spend tons of time together?”

I shift uncomfortably, preparing myself for the older brother advice I already see coming. “From time to time but I promise, we’re just friends.”

There’s a pause on his end, an unbearable pause. “I trust you Y/N,” Finn finally speaks. “It’s him I don’t trust. He’s not the best sort of guy. Ya’ll aint right for one another.”

I hope Colson can’t hear any of what Finn is saying. To keep him from becoming suspicious, I keep my replies indifferent. “Sure thing. Uh, talk ya later Finn.”

“Bye, talk to you soon.”

We hang up and I slip my phone into my purse.

Colson leans back onto the railing next to me. “Who was that?”

“My older brother, kinda overbearing,” I laugh nervously then bite my lip. My accent begins to subside again.

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Colson remarks.

A faint smile appears across my lips thinking of my brothers. “I have two actually and an older sister. The order is Finn, Odelle, me then Greyson.”

Colson returns a kind and gentle smile. “That must’ve been nice to grow up with so many siblings.”

“It was.” I nod as memories flash across my mind. “Finn and Odelle were grouped together and so was me and Greyson since our age gaps are less.”

As we pass each level on the elevator there is a “ding.” Facing toward the doors again, I absentmindedly watch the numbers go down as we pass the levels. My mind wanders to the many memories I’ve made with my brothers and sister.

“Finn is about Sam’s age, so he likes to believe he’s almost a co-parent for me and Grey,” I describe with a pleased expression. “He’s the total opposite of Odelle.”

Colson genuinely shows interest, “how is she?”

“She’s a total wild card! We all joke that it’s every other kid. Finn and I are the rule followers. He was student body president, quarterback of the football team and still managed to graduate with honors. I’m nowhere near him on the perfect child spectrum but I’m supposed to be “America’s Sweetheart.” My parents eat that up. Then there’s Odelle, she’s the total opposite of Finn. My parents had to beg her to improve her grades so she could graduate. I remember being twelve, it was the middle of the night when I got up to get a drink. I went downstairs and saw her sneaking out of the backdoor. She made me promise not to tell our parents. I haven’t talked about it until today. There were days she’d fake being sick just to ditch school with her friends. By her senior year nothing had changed. She ended up graduating but my parents forced her to go to a college close to home so they could keep an eye on her. Her antics continued the entire time I was in high school. College for her was a playground. For some reason, I envied her. I still do. I suppose it’s because no one expects anything from her. She messes up, well, that’s Odelle for you. She causes trouble, just another day. For me, my parents have me up on a peddle stool. By the time I turned sixteen people out here started taking notice of me. When I reached seventeen the title of “America’s Sweetheart” popped up and from then on, I was longer a teenager. I had a role to play and an image to uphold. I could never make mistakes like Odelle. I have to be “perfect” constantly. Sometimes I feel like a doll, plastic. None of it is real.”

The bell rings for the floor. I comprehend the words escaping my mouth and snap back to reality. I revealed so much about myself while I was in that daze, private facts about myself that I’ve never spoken of before.

Straightening up and adjust my dress, I apologize. “I’m so sorry. I have no idea what came over me.” The doors slide open and I step out. “Good to see you Colson,” I rush out a farewell before speed walking towards the exit.

I mentally slap myself for all I confessed. If only Nicole found out, my head would be on a stick. My life, my background, every aspect of my being is supposed to be flawless. An All-American girl from South Carolina with a wholesome up brining is who I’m supposed to be. If word gets out that I’m not so perfect then… then I would be finished. My hand digs for my keys in my purse.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Colson jogs up next to me then steps in front of me, blocking my path.

“Colson, please....” I practically plead in a mutter, stepping around him.

He wraps his hand around my wrist, stopping me. “Let me buy you a drink!” 

Workers around us walk around in multiple directions like zombies. I wonder if they’re taking notice. Hesitant, I narrow my gaze at me. The reason we’re in this mess is because we were seen with one another.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I admit and release myself from his grip.

I only make it a few feet before he’s in front of me again.

“Fine, no to a drink! How about we go get some coffee? Or tea? If you prefer tea!”

His chest rises and falls rapidly, his desperation is evident. The reason behind is desperation is still unknown to me, along with the reason he looked at me the way he did last night. Who is this mysterious man who stands before me? So many questions I wish to ask but I can’t get passed his eyes. Puddles of crystal blue settle on a white canvas. Confused beyond belief, for a reason unbeknownst to me, I accept. Could be my curiosity is getting the best of me.

“Coffee it is,” I give in to his request.

He grins ear to ear and steps to the side so we can leave side by side. “Unless of course you prefer we get tea!” he suggests, sounding a tad nervous.

Honestly I like both drinks but I prefer coffee. He holds the door for me and the bright sunlight of California weather strikes me.

“Nah, I normally drink a cold brew with a shot of espresso,” I describe.

He winces and pretends to gag. “Ew! That sounds horrible!”

“It gives you a boost in the morning! Nice and strong!” I laugh.

“You’re nasty!” He waves his hands in disgust.

“Eh, you’ve called me worse,” I laugh, unfazed by his insult.

He chuckles, “you’re not wrong.”

Our laughing dies down a little as we stroll over to the Starbucks. I peer up at him with a side eye. When our eyes meet we begin laughing again uncontrollably.

___________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @canyoubuymetoast @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa56 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxrl @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresixx @Thysagclub @hockeybabe87​ 

[obscure-imagines]

(smut warning)

-first off, he’s an asshole, and he might be a little nicer to you than other people, but he will always be a dick

-meeting at a big party his family is throwing

-he’s only there because his parents bribed him to be

-he stays more to the sides of the room, lurking and looking for more champagne because his parents have told the bartender to stop serving him, which makes zero sense because he’s a grown ass man

-he sees you and enjoys your face, so he comes over to talk with you

-this man is gorgeous and is used to women throwing themselves at him, so he barely even has to put on any charm

-but there you are, being impervious to his charm, and it makes him want you even more

-he tries a few shitty pick up lines and when you roll your eyes at him and laugh, he gets a little bit angry, because... like... why are you not sucking his dick in the supply closet yet?

-“wanna get out of here?” he asks. “I’m pretty sure you’ve been drinking-” “then you can drive, come on, it will be fun.” 

-he whines until you give in

-you end up at a breakfast place, I-hop or Dennys and this fucker whines about the alcohol selection being sub-par

-he’s kind of hilarious, in a shitty, privileged, way... but he’s also gorgeous so... what are you going to do? not fuck the guy? haha yeah right

-he talks a lot but he’s nice to look at so it’s okay

-spending way too much time at this diner eating and chatting

-but neither of you really want to leave

-he tells you about his family, giving you all the juicy details

-when he mentions hating the dogs you seriously consider dipping on the date... then you realize, is this a date?

-you decide that if he pays for the meal, then it’s probably a date

-the bill comes and he pulls out his wallet and your heart flutters in your chest because... it’s probably a date

-he’s still a little drunk, after all, he managed to convince an employee to give him a mimosa minus the OJ 

-so you drive him home

-when you’re sitting in the car outside his place he gets all whiney again, “come inside with me.” 

-he’s really not the type someone says no to... especially with his face being 10/10 and everything

-he’s such a charmer

-somehow he sweet talks you into going inside with him

-as soon as the door is closed behind you, he kisses you

-he’s BIG so... if you have a size kink, this guy checks that off

-he loves using his body to pin you against the wall

-he has a complete control kink. hella dom. knows exactly what he wants and expects to get it. he finds a good medium between degradation and praise. hella rough, choking, spanking, marking. gets possessive way too fast- you know, a gReAT gUy

-waking up the next morning with his arms around you

-he’s a clingy sleeper

-buries his face in your neck and refuses to wake up

-like, he doesn’t treat you like a one night hook up which is kind of odd?

-“do you have anywhere to be?” he asks

-”not really.”

-“then I’m making you breakfast.” 

-you’re kind of shocked he can cook. 

-you put on a dress shirt of his and follow him to the kitchen where he makes some decent scrambled eggs

-he likes looking at the marks he’s left on your skin, but he doesn’t apologize for them

-“so, we should do this again sometime.” he says

-he makes it sound so casual, but like... this man just marked the shit out of you, cuddled you, and made you breakfast...

-you go home and a day passes, then he’s hitting you up again

-his texts relly a lot on emojis? but... as if you’re going to not understand “🍆💦🍑😜”

-honestly, the emojis are just him dicking around with you like an asshole. like, why take the type to type out ‘come over so we can fuck’ when you can just send some emojis?

-he texts you the filthiest things while he’s at family events because he’s a dick

-he kind of loves it though

-a month passes with you spending at least one or two nights a week at his place and he gets progressively more boyfriend-like

-you start to see the deeper side of him, he begins to tell you actual secrets, instead of just the shallow drama that goes around in his family

-he adores cuddling with you? which is a shock to him, but it’s so relaxing to just cuddle and rant

-he likes playing with your hair, which is when he realizes he wants you to be his girlfriend

-he can’t imagine anyone else touching you, you’re his

-“wanna come to a family thing with me?” he asks, out of the blue. “ooh, like as your date?” you tease. “as my girlfriend.” 

-you’re shook, because he wants to introduce you to his family as his girlfriend. sometimes this guy shocks you, he has the capacity for sweetness, just prefers to be a dick most of the time

-so you go to the event with him, he gets you a beautiful outfit to wear for it

-“so my family hates me, but you? well, you’re actually a nice person so I think they’ll be welcoming, and if they aren’t, they can eat shit.” 

-his family is super nice to you and everyone’s shocked that you’re sweet and gorgeous

-in fact, they’re very vocal about it, “she’s way too pretty for you Ransom.” “is he paying you? blackmailing you to be with him? you can tell us, we can help.” “if you’re some sort of hired actress, tell us and we’ll pay you double what he’s paying you.”

-yeah, they’re assholes too

-Ransom keeps you close to him the entire night

-his arm is around you always, because you’re HIS

-he’ll fight anyone who looks at you the wrong way

-at dinner, his hand is on your thigh under the table and it keeps getting higher and higher because he’s a dick

-he’s way too into exhibitionism, and the thought of fucking you in his grandfather's house is driving him mental

-lots of dirty whispering into your ear

-he’s a bit of a mess

-but you really ground him, especially at family events

-as long as people don’t try to fight you or him, things actually run fairly smoothly

-people can see how much he loves you

-like, he looks at you with such adoration in his eyes it’s insane

-no one ever thought they’d see Ransom-the-asshole fall in love

-he’s kind of whipped for you

-as time passes, he gets more and more calm and nice

-it would be a very sexual relationship, i mean, look at him

-he’d tell you everything, show you the dark side of him

-he’s really smart, which can be kind of scary, but you trust him

-he’d never hurt you

-he has the capacity to hurt people, but he’s so in love with you

-once he tells you he loves you the first time, after that, he says it a lot

-he feels the need to assure you he loves you, and really likes it when you say it back

-his family is so shitty, having someone who truly loves him, unconditionally, well, he’s addicted to you, and he’s never letting you go

-so many cuddles

-he may only be able to cook eggs, but he’s still a hottie while doing it

-stealing his sweaters, even though they dwarf you

-his clothes always smell like him and you love wearing them

-he has a huge kink for fucking you while you wear one of his sweaters cuz he thinks you look adorable in it

-get used to being mostly naked because that’s how he likes it at his house

-he’d pamper you

-getting you lingerie so you can put on a fashion show for him

-biting and marking

-he’s super passionate

-he growls... it’s a nice sound

-loves just cradeling you to his chest, he’s so broad, it’s so nice

-he’s always warm?

-i know he’s like... an asshole, but he’s also baby, and you just need to treat him like one sometimes

-i love him