#like for example. The eyebrows is one !

[sergle]

I think my favorite thing about doing ginger red hair instead of cherry red hair is: lying to people about it

[sysig]

Charm doll, someday.... (Patreon)

[thevoiceofdesertbluffs]

HAPPY 5TH ANNIVERSARY KASPER RHODES!!

it's unbelievable to me. It's been over 2 years since I started listening to WtNV, let alone when I found out about him. Kasper means so much to me. Without him, I don't even think I'd be drawing humans! I was so determined to make him fanart due to the lack of it. And now here we are.

I thought It'd be fitting if I redrew one of my first full Kasper pieces, "Kaspler". This time, however, instead of just shoving him into the Onceler's clothes, I changed them up a wee, to moreso match his colour, red.

ALSO! A big thank you to my good friend @rockosaur , who helped me a lot when it came to posing, as well as providing me w some tips overall, please send her over some love!

Anyways! I hope you all enjoy! And happy birthday to Kasper!

(Capeless + original below the cut)

Capeless

Original

[fisheito]

slithering out from under a rock or something to inform you that you DO have followers who are yaku lovers <3 he's been my fave since day one and i would love to accompany him to the farmers market

ah.. i sit corrected... valuable confirmation of intel. *enters it manually into the nucadex* where to find yakufans: farmer's market (they will be farming and/or marketing)

[into-the-milgramverse]

I wonder what could be implications of the "save data"

Does it mean there'll be another round where we could pick different options? Does it mean that prisoners are dead and their souls are uploaded into Milgram? Does it mean they're all from different times? Or

Hear me out here. What if, like, at that point when they felt the guilt crashing down on them, Milgram kinda, well, basically kidnapped them at that point in time? So the time outside is also kinda frozen. And what if that's the point at which they'll be brought back after they get out of Milgram? Like.

Imagine Fuuta, who's last moments before he woke up in Milgram was in his bedroom. So, if he gets voted innocent, he gets dropped off back into his bedroom.

Absolutely insane to think about the shock that would bring to the family tho. Imagine your son goes to his bedroom in pyjamas and then next second he's running out of his bedroom, shaken up, looking like he hasn't slept in years, with serious eye injury, and wearing some sort of weird uniform. And as you rush him to the hospital, he's saying something about Milgram, being kidnapped, getting beat up, hearing voices, feeling watched, Amaneism, judgment, etc...

[13eyond13]

.

[jamtart-2]

i'll be honest, off the top of my head, i can't think of any actresses who'd be good fits to play any of the Beatle Girls. or actors for the beatles, for that matter

[kokoronohiroi]

i’ll never get upset at official merch for sidelining okuyasu for rohan (it’s honestly the funniest thing to me) but it does make me raise an eyebrow at the fact they chose to sideline the one jobro with melanin 🤨

[free-luigi-mangione]

youtube likes to twist a particular knife into my gut and brings up Luigi's valedictorian speech often when i'm there watching something completely unrelated and every single time i feel like crying

[aristoteliancomplacency]

Guys.

Y’all.

I…

I just. I just… i have discovered something. And I have laughed too much. I have laughed every time I have tried to explain it to someone. I cannot get through this.

Look. Okay.

There are two things you need to know, here.

First: There’s a style of Greek pottery that was popular during the Hellenic period, for which most of the surviving examples are from southern Italy. We call them ‘fish plates’ because, well, they’re plates, and they’re decorated with fish (and other marine life).

Like this one, currently in the Met:

Or this one, currently in the Cleveland Museum of Art:

They’re very cool. We’re not 100% sure what they were for, because most of the surviving ones were found as grave goods, but that’s a different post.

The second thing you need to know is that when we (Classics/archaeology/whatever as a discipline) have a collection of artefacts, like vases, sculptures, paintings, etc. and we do not know the name of the artist, but we’re pretty sure one artist made X, Y and Z artefacts, we come up with a name for that artist. There are a whole bunch of things that could be the source for the name, e.g. where we found most of their work (The Dipylon Master) or the potter with whom they worked (the Amasis Painter), a favourite theme (The Athena Painter), the Museum that ended up with the most famous thing they did (The Berlin Painter) or a notable aspect of their style. Like, say, The Eyebrow Painter.

Guess what kind of pottery the Eyebrow Painter made?

[mydearzero]

Bribes | Stiles Stilinski x Reader

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You get paired with Stiles to write a paper for Coach's class. But when had Stilinski grown into his awkward features? When had he grown out his buzzcut? Why was he suddenly so insanely fuckable?

Contents: NO Y/N, afab!Reader, smut, Stiles is a bit cocky lmao, fucking in the jeep, reader is related to Coach (wether adopted or not doesn't matter), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, clumsy sex, playful banter, oral sex (v receiving), casual sex, coming inside, mentions of birth control, making out if I missed any warnings please let me know!

3.5K words

Had to get Stiles out of (pls into plEASE) my system SOMEHOW, so here you go. This one is dedicated to @uglypastels for indulging my obsession and continuously sending me Dylan O'Brien thirst edits <3 <3

“Just so you’re aware, this paper is as high on my list of priorities as the Pope is in Amsterdam,” Stiles dropped his binder on the table, startling you out of your daydream. He was exactly 4 minutes late, not that you were counting. It was still impressive, seeing as he just came from practice. 

“Believe me, I, too, would rather be hanging around with Isaac Lahey, yet we’re both here. Let’s just get it over with.” Stiles snorted a laugh, but didn’t comment.

You didn’t not get along with Stilinski. You weren’t sure if you could be called friends, exactly. You’d known each other pretty much all your lives, just like the majority of your school. Beacon Hills wasn’t exactly a metropolis. 

You sighed and laid out your notes, Stiles following your example. You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Those are your notes?” 

There were only doodles, random calculations and sporadic keywords scribbled on the loose piece of crumpled paper he straightened out next to your notebook. 

“I’m surprised, too. There’s actual words. I don’t usually get that far.” The smirk on his face could only be described as smug. You groaned. This was going to take forever. You divided the topics for the paper amongst yourselves and silently got to work. The ‘silently’ part didn't last long, however. It never did with Stiles.

“Are you still living with your uncle?” He questioned suddenly. You frowned at the question, confused, but nodded either way. 

“So can’t you just, I don’t know, cook him dinner and have him give us a good grade?” The gleam in his eyes nearly made you laugh. Nearly. Instead, you flicked him on the side of the head. He whined something about unnecessary violence, but it fell on deaf ears. 

“I’m not bribing my uncle just so you can slack off, Stiles. Besides, I’m never really sure if he even likes me,” you wondered out loud. 

“You and me, both…” Stiles grumbled. 

You glanced at Stiles as he scribbled furiously, seeming to finally get some of his research done. His knees wiggled excessively as he wrote about the economic effects of pandemics. You wrote down a few key parts of the paragraphs in your book before turning to your laptop and beginning the outline of the paper. Stiles hummed quietly as he read the entry he’d just written, tapping his pen furiously against the table. 

“Can you stop that?” You requested, his incessant movement distracting you more than his general being already did. He glanced up, an amused expression on his face. 

“What,” he tapped his pencil faster. “This?” You contained the urge to roll your eyes and stared at him blankly. He stopped the movement for perhaps one whole minute before picking it back up again. 

You only glanced up pointedly this time. He added a jiggle of his knees in challenge. You rose from your chair, leaned over and snatched the pen out of his hand, throwing it across the library. “Fetch.” 

Stiles gaped up at you in surprise. The timing of it was very unfortunate, but you’d never really noticed how Stilinski had grown into his awkward features. Something must’ve shown on your face, because Stiles now looked just as confused, perhaps intrigued, as you felt. While you’d been confident in throwing his pen across the room in annoyance, having him look up at you like that made it so you weren’t sure if you wanted him to get up. You cleared your throat and sat back in your chair. 

“Unbelievable…” Stiles muttered under his breath as he got up to get the pen. It gave you time to recompose. You didn’t look at him as he sat back down, but felt his eyes burn a hole through the side of your head. 

An unfamiliar tension hung in the air while you worked in silence. You snuck glances at Stiles, who was finally focussed on his writing once more. His hair was longer, still messy and unstyled from practice. The grey workout gear perfectly accentuated his broadened shoulders. He bit his lip after reading a complex entry, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like on your own, or on your neck while your hands tugged on his now perfectly tuggable locks. 

A few times his eyes met yours. You’d quickly dart them back to your notebook, pretending you hadn’t been looking, knowing damn well he’d seen.  

Oh my god. Get. it. together.

“Did you finish?” You dared ask after a while, having completed your own part. All you had to do was put your parts together, wrap it up and finish. 

“I’ll give it to you, but you have to give something to me first,” Stiles spoke in a challenging tone. For a split second back there you’d wondered how he was still single after all this time, but now you were reminded. He was insufferable. 

“What could you possibly want from me, Stiles? Just give me your damn part.” 

“A kiss.” 

“What? No!” You sputtered. Stiles’ tongue poked the inside of his cheek cockily as he raised an eyebrow, pointing to his lips. 

“Guess you’ll have some explaining to do to your uncle why you’re only handing in half an assignment, then.” 

“This is coercion, Stilinski! Should I call your dad?” You crossed your arms, refusing to look him in the eye. The librarian shushed you loudly. You could feel heat rush to your face, but didn’t relent. Asshole. 

Stiles leaned closer, running a finger over the side of your face. Your heartbeat increased what seemed about tenfold.

“It’s not coercion if you want me to.” His breath hit your neck as he spoke, sending goosebumps down your arms. “And I’m getting the feeling you really want me to.” 

You jerked away from his reach, coming to your senses. You gathered your things into your bag, mumbling something about your GPA being fine, anyway. You stomped away from the table, heart racing. You were mad, not because he was suggesting something you didn’t want, rather that he’d clocked exactly what you wanted so easily. 

Concerned Stiles would follow you out of the library, you hid behind a few bookshelves in a section nobody usually visited. You caught your breath, placing your palm on your chest. You dropped your bag on the floor, turning to peek around the bookshelf to see if Stiles was still stationed at the table. Relieved, you saw he’d indeed decided to follow you out of the library.

You turned back to grab your bag and head out, but were met with Stiles’ face mere inches from your own. You were startled, but he grabbed your waist before you could fall over. His hold was strong. Your hands instinctively went up to his chest, steadying yourself. Had he always been this tall? 

One of his hands wandered slightly lower, rubbing small circles on your lower back. Your eyes met his, which were just shining with mischief and an underlying sense of self-satisfaction. His tongue darted out, licking his lower lip. 

“Can I be frank? You’re incredibly annoying,” you stated, slinging your arms around his neck, finally giving in. 

“You can be whoever you want as long as I get to kiss you, Frank,” Stiles laughed. You groaned but pulled him close either way. 

“Shut up.” 

Stiles obliged and put his mouth to yours aggressively, tugging your body against his. One of his hands wandered up, cupping the back of your head to bring it closer. You tugged at the small locks at the back of his neck, eliciting a sighed moan from Stiles. 

“You’re so hot,” he confessed when you broke apart for a second. He turned you so you were pushed with your back against the bookcase, a few books falling to the floor. Neither of you cared as your kiss continued, deepening by the second. His hands held your hips as he started grinding against you, sweats low on his hips. His mouth made its way down your jaw, moving to suck hasty kisses on your neck. 

“Stiles…” you sighed blissfully. Heat gathered in your stomach at the soft, breathy noises coming from his lips combined with the sound of them against your skin. He put his knee between your thighs.

“Knew you wanted this as much as I did, fuck,” Stiles groaned. The pressure from his knee was delicious, but not enough. It was almost as if he could read your mind as he slid his hand into your bottoms, working your underwear out of the way somewhat clumsily. 

“God… so wet for me,” he moaned. You could only reply with breathy whimpers, trying to make as little noise as possible. Stiles shushed you, placing his unoccupied hand over your mouth as the other started rubbing small circles over your clit. You closed your eyes and let your head fall against the bookcase. Your knees went weak at the sensation, not much holding you up besides Stiles. 

He slipped his hand out of your underwear, bringing a finger up to his mouth. He casually licked it clean. He hooked his thumbs into your bottoms, seeking eye contact and asking for non-verbal permission to tug them down. You bit your lip and nodded enthusiastically. When your underwear hit the floor, so did Stiles’ knees. Your eyes darted around your environment, but the school was nearly empty at this time, especially the library. 

You had to slap your hand over your mouth when Stiles made contact with your clit, his tongue tentatively licking between your folds. Your breathing was laboured, chest heaving as Stiles took his time exploring. Your bottom lip found itself between your teeth, holding in your moans. Your hands shot to Stiles’ hair. Perfectly tuggable, indeed. 

He groaned when you gave an exceptionally sharp tug, taking the time to look you in the eyes. The vibrations of his lowered voice felt good. You had seemingly no control over your hands, fingers tightening their grip the closer you got to the edge. 

“Shit, baby… So good for me. Gotta stay quiet…” Stiles mumbled. A small, high pitched keen left your lips. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to keep the silence up. You looked down once more and saw Stiles palming himself over his sweats as he continued eating you out, rhythmically grinding his hips in time with his mouth. 

The sound of a bag zipper closing got your attention. You smacked Stiles’ shoulder to stop, wanting to whine in frustration at just how close you’d been. Stiles paid you no mind, lost in giving you pleasure. You put both your hands on his shoulders and pushed him away, careful not to tip him over. It was only then Stiles noticed the noise of someone packing up to leave. He scrambled to stand up, trying to help you get redressed. 

“I got it, I got it,” you hissed quietly. 

“Who’s there? You can’t be here anymore! Library’s about to close!” It was the librarian who’d shushed you earlier. You grabbed your bag in a hurry. 

“Would you still rather be hanging out with Isaac?” Stiles asked jokingly, wiping his chin. You whacked his arm, storming past him to the doors. He followed quickly, arm wandering over your shoulders as you walked out of the now deserted school. You didn’t speak as Stiles led you over to the Jeep, insisting on driving you home, at least. 

You sat in the passenger seat as Stiles ran around to the drivers’ side. You wiped your hands on your thighs, huffing a frustrated breath. You hadn’t even finished the paper, and now you got cock-blocked on top of it. So not worth it. You turned to Stiles as he put the keys in the ignition. He’d never looked hotter than that very second, lips bruised, hair tousled and still pent up, besides maybe when he looked up at you with his face buried between your legs. Okay so maybe a little worth it. 

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m gonna pull over and we’re gonna have sex in the back seat like right now,” Stiles joked. Or at least, you assumed it was a joke. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, threat or invitation?” 

“Option D? All of the above? I mean, D is definitely an option.”

“Pull over and we’ll see how much of an option it is.” 

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice, pulling over in a small clearing as soon as he saw the opportunity. He took off his seatbelt, scrambling to get out of the car. He opened the door for you, closing it and letting you in the back seat. You laid back across the seats and manoeuvred your top off, throwing it at Stiles. He caught it, quickly discarding it somewhere in the car. He shimmied his pants down his legs, not bothering to take off his shoes. You did the same, leaving you in your underwear. Stiles stopped to take a proper look. 

“You’re gonna kill me. You’ve already killed me and this is my pre-hell Heaven trailer of what could’ve been. God iwantyousobad.” You pulled him on top of you as you laughed. 

“Less talking, more fucking, yes?” 

“Yes, I agree. Wholeheartedly,” Stiles nodded furiously, tugging his shirt over his head with only one hand. Hot. He finally closed the car door behind him before he could forget. 

“I’m going to assume you don’t just casually keep condoms in your car?” You questioned. Stiles closed his eyes and tightened his lips in frustration, mentally scolding himself. He finally had you in his Jeep, half-naked, ready to fuck, and he didn’t have a freaking condom??? He finally shook his head no, sighing and pulling away from you slowly. 

You leaned up on your elbows and whispered in his ear. “Hmmm… Guess you’re just gonna have to come inside of me… Wouldn’t want to make a mess of the car…” 

Stiles pounced at that, kissing you like his life depended on it. He tugged your underwear back down your legs, now very familiar with your pelvic region. He struggled to undo your bra, cursing under his breath. You laughed and lended a hand, undoing it and slipping it off your shoulders. 

“Holy shit,” Stiles groaned. “Promise me to thank Coach for pairing us up.” 

“You did not just mention my uncle as a reaction to seeing me naked,” you complained. 

“I did. Not sorry. He did me a favour.” 

You ignored the comment and decided to kiss him to shut him back up. Him and his mouth… God his mouth. You were still pent up from the library, and if he didn’t fuck you soon you were pretty sure you’d go crazy. 

“Stiles, want you,” you whined impatiently. He was too busy paying attention to your nipples, taking one between his teeth as he made eye contact. “Shit,” you gasped.

Your hands wandered down his torso, stopping at the hem of his boxers. You tugged them down, setting his very hard cock free from its confinement. The tip was red, dribbling with pre-cum. He was obviously just as pent up as you felt. You gave him a few experimental tugs with your hand before lining him up with your entrance. 

Stiles took over, taking his time to slowly push inside you. You put your hands on his shoulders, holding your breath at the stretch. He was so much bigger than you’d expected. You both moaned when he bottomed out. You felt so full, it was insane. You dug your nails into his shoulders and gave him a nod, indicating he could move. 

He set a slow pace, testing the waters. He was enthralled by the jiggle of your tits with every movement. Typical. His hands moved up to hold them, almost as leverage, as he picked up his pace. 

“Fuck, so good,” Stiles moaned. You were about to move a hand down to touch yourself, but Stiles stopped you. 

“Let me make you feel good, let me make you come.” He put one hand on your shoulder to steady himself and brought the other down to where you were joined. He continued to thrust, putting his fingers on your clit. It took him a second, but he found a rhythm where he could thrust and stroke at the same time. 

“Oh my god, Stiles!” You moaned, the added sensation feeling amazing. The sound of his hips slapping against yours was filthy to say the least. You moved to hold onto something above your head as Stiles sped up. Your hands soon found the little ledge, and you gripped it to the best of your ability. 

Stiles bent down to kiss you, pace still unrelenting. The new angle of him bent forward sent his cock exactly where you needed it. 

“Shit, oh my god.” It was all the confirmation Stiles needed to keep it up. 

“So pretty, so tight around my cock. Such pretty tits. You feel so good,” he mumbled against your lips. 

The pace of his hips became more erratic, both of you nearing the edge. Your knuckles turned white with how tight you were gripping the car door. 

“Gonna come inside you,” Stiles moaned. “Fill you up so nice.” 

“Yes, Stiles, please!”  

“Fuck, so good, so good for me,” Stiles was becoming more talkative and less coherent as he lost himself in the pleasure. He was mouthing at your jawline, sucking another hickey where there were already plenty. 

“Fuck, Stiles, gonna come,” you whined. You could feel his smile against your neck. Smug idiot. He then started rubbing your clit exactly the way you liked it. Combined with him hitting that spot inside you over and over and over again, you were seeing stars. 

“Don’t stop, please,” another moan left your lips. 

“Come for me. Come on my cock. So pretty, so good,” Stiles blabbered. 

“Fuck! Stiles!” You keened, tightening around his dick as you came. He kissed you again as his hips stuttered, thrusting a few more times before painting your walls with his cum. His head fell on your chest as you both caught your breath.

When his breathing had slowed, he groaned before lifting himself off you, chuckling as he pecked both your nipples, then your lips before looking for something to clean you with. He settled on the shirt of his lacrosse uniform. 

“Ugh, gross,” you mumbled as he wiped you clean. Stiles shrugged. “It was going into the wash, anyway.” 

Stiles put his underwear and sweats back on, opening the door and getting out so you could have the space to redress yourself. When you reached under the seat for your bra, you pulled out a baseball bat. “Why do you have a baseball bat in your car?” 

“No… Particular reason. Safety. Lots of dangerous animals… out there.” 

“So you settled on a bat?” You wondered, holding the object. Stiles nodded, not meeting your eyes, his locked on your still naked chest. You threw the bat at him and laughed, reaching under the seat again and this time pulling out your bra. 

When you were finally dressed, you got back in the passenger seat so Stiles could drive you home. It wasn’t a long drive, as you’d already been halfway there before pulling over. He drove up the driveway, and you cringed on the inside, hoping your uncle wouldn’t see who dropped you off. You took your bag and got out of the car, walking around to the drivers’ side where Stiles was already leaning out the window. 

You looked at him and gave him a small smile. You leaned forward to give him a kiss goodbye. “You better email me your part of the paper tonight, Stilinski.” 

“You bet, babe,” he winked and gave you a salute, watching as you laughed and turned to walk inside the house. 

You closed the door and took off your shoes, hanging your coat and leaving your bag by the door. “I’m home!” 

Coach took one look at your appearance and frowned. Right… maybe you should’ve straightened yourself out before walking into the living room. Disheveled hair, hickeys on your neck, it wasn’t exactly rocket science as to why you were home later than usual. 

“If you’re gonna be having boys over, do it when I’m not around, please? I have enough of them to deal with at practice and in class. And at least have the decency to tell an uncle who he’s dealing with.” 

You cringed as the Jeep’s headlights very obviously flashed through the window at that very second, Stiles driving home. It was anything but unrecognizable. 

“Stilinski!? You’re sleeping with STILINSKI?! God, kill me now. If I’m now expected to have him over for Christmas dinner you better throw me off a bridge. And you BETTER use protection because I’m NOT gonna have Mini-linski’s running around.” 

[ozzgin]

Yandere! House Monster x Reader (II)

It’s officially a smutty sitcom: you, the oblivious gamer boyfriend, and the tentacle monster lurking in dark corners.

[First part]

Content: gender neutral reader, monster smut

Do monsters have a sense of humor? This creature seems to be greatly amused by the little "game" you've devised behind your boyfriend's back. Although you don't have much input in the affair, and most of the time you're merely a witness to the events unfolding before you (or in you).

First, there's the mild, inoffensive annoyances. "Babe, did you see my controller? I swear I left it on the couch". Some pranks are harder to swallow than others, such as the occasional lack of Internet. You know exactly when it happens, because you can hear your boyfriend's enraged shouts and rattles. It's always during important matches. No one knows why it happens. The repairmen who cross your threshold can only scratch their heads in confusion, confessing that nothing is out of the ordinary.

Then, the unfortunate coincidences. "How about we have some fun after my game?", the boyfriend will suggest with an anticipative grin. Alas, moments after he stands up, he is overwhelmed by a nauseous feeling. His stomach twirls and throbs, and he curses under his breath. "Some other time, perhaps", he concludes begrudgingly. You see, the creature is very possessive. The only thing that has saved your beloved partner from being torn to shreds already is his crassly comical obliviousness.

The mischief aimed towards the boyfriend is, however, a secondary source of entertainment. Nothing could ever come close to spending time with you. Yet another irony to this ridiculous situation: you haven't been caught yet, despite the rabid clinginess of the tentacled monster.

It just loves surprising you. For example, when you exhale dramatically at the end of the day, relaxing in the bathtub and enjoying your peace. Just as you hear an impatient knock on the door, you notice a familiar dark tendril slithering its way out of the water. You won't be leaving the bathroom anytime soon. "Did you steam yourself over there? You look like a lobster", the boyfriend will remark with a raised eyebrow upon seeing your panting, feverish face. "Y-yeah, I guess so." You limp outside, struggling to hold the towel around your body. Or more specifically, around the many marks left on your skin by hundreds of suckers.

In fact, its shamelessness reminds you of a poorly written erotic scenario, the likes you'd see on some adult website with a clickbait title. How would you name this current setup? You grip the edge of the table, pursing your lips to prevent any moans escaping your mouth. Your boyfriend is, once again, scrolling on his phone, indifferent to your presence. The water boiling on the stove drowns the wet, slippery sounds of the appendages pumping in and out of you underneath the table. “You might want to give it a stir in a moment, or it’ll overflow”, the boyfriend remarks without lifting his gaze. You mumble in agreement, slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re at your limit.

One may be tempted to ask, is this entity bound to its house? You pondered the same question until your recent IKEA visit. You and your boyfriend had been looking for a new wardrobe. "What do you think of this one?", you asked, closing the door and turning around. Your eyes scanned the empty model-bedroom. The jackass had wandered ahead without you. You sighed and were about to go find him, when a cold grip suddenly tightened around your wrist. You winced and snapped your head back. Thick tendrils had made their way out of the closet, tugging you to join them inside. So it can follow you around, you thought, climbing into the cramped space. Between the silent whines and breathy begging, an idea emerges from your dazed mind. New hypothetical video title: mercilessly molested in the IKEA store by monster partner.

[p3achyxdoll]

𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐 𝑩𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑩𝒊𝒎𝒃𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆

Not everyone can afford the obvious immediate surgical interventions (boob jobs, lip fillers, Botox, lipo), so I've decided to focus on things that you could implement instead of injectables and surgery.

Become your best bimbo self!

𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈:

❥ Change up your outfits to be more feminine.

❥ Go thrifting for new ones if you don't own any that fit your vision. Or learn how to sew and make your own (my current dream goal.)

❥ Look for more feminine fabrics and colours – or which fit your bimbo aesthetic.

❥ Go with a silhouette that is flattering on you and makes you feel confident. Figure out your body shape to do this.

❥ Learn how to walk in heels.

❥ Accessorize: Bags. Jewellery. Piercings.

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝑺𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆:

❥ Develop a skincare routine.

❥ Look after your body – moisturize, have uncalloused and soft feet that you take care of, learn lymphatic drainage techniques.

❥ Maintain your hygiene always.

❥ Look after your mental health. Perhaps journal, speak to a professional, or meditate.

❥ Use a guasha for natural face shaping and pampering.

❥ Nourish your body with foods that show you respect it.

❥ Shape your eyebrows. Pluck or wax.

❥ Shave your body hair. Or wax.

❥ Look after your teeth. Whiten them. Floss. Avoid foods and drinks that stain.

𝑬𝒙𝒕𝒓𝒂 𝑻𝒊𝒑:

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆! 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒆.

𝑴𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒖𝒑:

❥ Learn how to do your makeup well and for different occasions.

❥ Putting emphasis on different elements of your face can highlight your femininity and best features. Don't try to hide them. I personally love wearing pink or even purple-toned eye shadows in a smokey look to bring out my greeny eyes.

❥ Learn your face shape and how to work with it.

❥ Femme faces tend to be smaller, softer, and more rounded. Even if you don’t have these features naturally, you can make your face look more feminine through makeup and the right hairstyle for your face. (Know your face shape and then go from there with tips.)

𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑵𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒔:

❥ Maintain your hair and develop a good haircare routine – use heat protecting spray if you style it with heat, for example.

❥ Incorporate feminine hair accessories like hair bows or bands.

❥ Keep your look simple, clean, and soft.

❥ I get my nails done every three weeks or so, gel nails. But you can be just as feminine with natural or shorter nails. Just make sure they're clean, well kept, and shaped – learning to do your own is super simple.

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑰𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔:

❥ Act like the girl you want to become until it becomes your reality. Fake it until you make it.

❥ Work on your mannerisms and inherently feminine body language.

❥ Improve your posture.

❥ Watch etiquette videos, voice and elecution lessons. Avoid cursing and shouting.

❥ Defer to the men, who you trust, when possible.

❥ Socialise and try to lean into your extroverted side. People enjoy the company of those who are at ease with themselves.

❥ Giggle more. Flirt more.

❥ Put your happiest self first when interacting with others. Feminine energy is nurturing and comforting.

❥ Find confidence in the new you. You only get to live one life, so you're already taking more steps than the average person by becoming the authentic and happy you! Take pride in that.

𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒚𝒍𝒆:

❥ Join the gym or find a physical activity you enjoy to ensure you're toned – or if you need to, lose weight. This is also great for your mental health and general wellbeing.

❥ Write down mantras and repeat them every day. These can be bimbo or feminity related. Or they could simply be your goals for the day, week, or year.

❥ Surround yourself with female friendships, feminine women or bimbos like you.

[lilacgaby]

title: mini-you

pairings: husband!katsuki x wife!reader

your daughter was the spitting image of katsuki, you'd known it the second the ultra sound was displayed on the screen.

the minute your daughter was born and you gave her a once over, you knew she'd be her fathers daughter.

she came out the womb with his hair color, his eye color, his nose, and even his eyebrows, she was a mini katsuki for sure.

katsuki though believed otherwise. he saw beauty in the parts of her that resembled you.

her hair texture, her ears, her mouth, and her smile. he knew she looked like a carbon copy of him, he wasn't dense. but his favorite parts of his daughter were the ones that he'd see in you.

she grew up to be like him in more ways than one. for example, she clung to you like a koala. from when she turned one, the word 'mama' was the most recurring word in her vocabulary. she'd fuss when she was laying in your chest and katsuki would come to your side.

he must've inherited his competitive nature too, you thought. and you were right, the second she could she began racing katsuki to your side, crawling, walking, or whining to get her way.

as you held katsuki and katsuki 2.0 at your sides, the two glaring at eachother, only your daughter wasn't joking, you thought about if your next kid would look like you.

you were so deep in thought you didn't notice that katsuki had picked your daughter up from her spot next to you with a sneaky look on his face.

oh well, you had a lot to deal with already, you thought as you eyed your daughter squealing as katsuki threw her around in the air.

a lot to deal with.

[coralquill]

Hii I was wondering you could do a headcanon about reader having cuteness aggression with them (lads li)? But like the aggression is real for example squeezing his cheeks very hard? Thank you if you decide to write it! ^^

ahoy, thank you for requesting! tbh whenever they do or say smth cute i just wanna. bite. them thru the screen. the cuteness aggression is real. hope you enjoy!

pairings: xavier x reader || zayne x reader || rafayel x reader || sylus x reader || caleb x reader

contents: cuteness aggression, fluff, domestic || wc.1002

— XAVIER

action: squeeze his cheeks! → consequence: a confused hunter!

Your cuteness aggression would hit when Xavier is quietly enjoying his own company. It would result in a confused Xavier letting you do as you please. At most, he'd return what you do to him.

Walking into the apartment, you saw Xavier lounging on the couch with a comic book in his hand. He looked so focused on what seemed to be an intense fight scene—eyebrows furrowed and lips in a cute pout. Agh! He looked so cute!

You grabbed his cheeks and squeezed them, resulting in a surprised Xavier.

Eyes wide and lips puckered in your hand, he asked, "why'd you do that?" He wasn't mad, just genuinely confused.

"You looked so cute, and I couldn't help myself. I just had to, y'know." You gave his cheeks another good squeeze.

Xavier chuckled, softly squeezing your cheeks in return.

— ZAYNE

action: mess with his face! → consequence: a doctor's teasing threat!

With Zayne, your cuteness aggression would hit when he was out of what you were used to seeing him in—off work and feeling relaxed in his own home. The aftermath of the episodes would be him putting you in your place!

With two hot chocolate mugs in hand, you soon returned to the living room, finding the TV set on a movie, the lights dimmed down, and Zayne huddled under a blanket. He looked so adorable right now, patiently waiting for you to join him.

Though the way he looked was doing things to you, and you had to do something about it!

Setting the mugs down, you stalked up to Zayne with purpose, catching Zayne's attention. "Oh, you're back—" He started though the rest of his words got muffled.

You grabbed his face with one hand, shaking it right and left before your hands messed with his face and mushed his cheeks together.

"What's gotten into you?" He asked once he easily caught your wrists. He was used to your antics.

"You looked so adorable, and I couldn't handle it."

"Is that so?" He chuckled softly. "If you don't behave, I'll show you how surgeons tie knots."

— RAFAYEL

action: bite his hand! → consequence: a pouty artist!

For Rafayel, whenever your cuteness aggression hit, he'd whine about you hurting his delicate skin with your pinches and bites. He'd pout, but he'd secretly enjoy it and the attention that came with it.

The sea breeze made its way into the studio, and Rafayel was sketching away in his sketchbook under the open windows.

Scribbles and scribbles later, Rafayel was finally finished with his sketch. He tore the paper out and made his way to you.

"Look, cutie." He held the sketch high and proud of the results. "What do you think?"

You analyzed his sketch.

Fine lines drawn with precision. Every stroke of his pencil was well-thought-out and placed exactly where it needed to be. It was a masterpiece. As expected from Rafayel.

And Rafayel, oh, Rafayel was looking at you expectantly, eyes peeking from over the paper. He looked so cute and so proud and so ugh—you had to do something about it.

You took one of his hands in yours and brought it close to your face.

"Hm? What is it, cutie—ow!"

You bit on his palm.

Rafayel tried to yank his hand away but that only prompted you to bite harder.

"An artist's hand is delicate, you know." He pouted.

You released his hand. "Thank you for the delicious art, and thank you for the delicious meal. Both are ten out of ten!"

Rafayel rolled his eyes playfully. "As it should be."

— SYLUS

action: bite his cheek! → consequence: a retaliation bite from the leader of Onychinus!

Your cuteness aggression attack with Sylus would hit when his attention was elsewhere—on meeting reports or confirming shady deals. It always ended up with Sylus retaliating with an equal reaction to your action.

Sylus sat at one end of his leather couch, a screwdriver in hand and Mephisto in the other. He was tweaking a screw here and a screw there, optimizing Mephisto's hardware for better maneuvering during flights.

You watched him work, and he was looking so deliciously good. Smart and handsome—and, ugh, you just had to bite him.

Getting up from your seat, you quietly walked to where Sylus was and slid next to him. "Explain to me what you're doing, handsome."

Sylus smiled, "curious, I see." He placed the screwdriver down and lowered Mephisto close for you to see. "I loosened the screws on the end feathers of his wings to allow them to tilt more when turning mid-air." He tilted the feathers in example, showing you exactly what he explained. "This grants Mephisto fast turns without losing speed—"

You bit his cheek. Hard.

Sylus paused, staring straight ahead. "Sweetie, would you like to reconsider your actions?"

"Noph." You denied, teeth still clamped on Sylus's cheek.

"Alright." Without another word, Sylus placed Mephisto down. He broke free from your bite and seized you in his arms before you could even think about running away.

You screamed.

Sylus bit your cheeks back.

— CALEB

action: pinch his cheeks! → consequence: a colonel's punishment!

Your cuteness aggression attack with Caleb always ends up with a disaster. A broken vase, dented tables, or even holes in walls. You would drive Caleb nuts if he didn't punish you (playfully) for your actions.

You came back home to find Caleb on the floor tinkering away on some plane prototype. He looked so focused and cute, and you had to mess with him.

Coming from behind him, you threw yourself on his back and pinched his cheeks.

"What are you doing?" Caleb laughed, trying to shake you off of him, but that only resulted in you pinching his cheeks harder. "Hey—woah!"

Crack.

You both fell on the prototype, parts coming loose and breaking off.

"Oops." You smiled apologetically before feeling your body becoming lighter.

Caleb huffed out a laugh, "okay, that's enough. Air jail time!"

likes and reblogs will always be appreciated ♡ let me know what you think!

— set sail for more tales, sailor: ⚲masterlist

— until next tide, thanks for docking by ｡𖦹°‧𓇼

© coralquill 2025 – do not copy, steal, or translate my work.

[muli-wam]

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦　⁺ 　 . ✦

Track Runner!Ryomen Sukuna hated you. He hated you with a passion. Scratch that, Sukuna despised you.

Track Runner!Ryomen Sukuna hated your snarky comments towards him and your feigning innocence when coach came around. He hated the way coach would use your "talent" as an "example" to the rest of the team like you were some pro athlete who's ability should be a standard.

He hated the way you'd tilt your head up in pride when you'd finish a 100 meter sprint in 11.64 seconds (which was only .4 seconds faster than him), walking past him silently with a face that said, "try and beat that," and he hated coaches bias comments about how great you were just because you were his daughter.

Track Runner!Ryomen Sukuna loved track and field, he truly did. He strived to be the best not only because it boosted his ego, but also because he needed to get that full ride scholarship if he wanted to get into college. It was his only chance at going pro and he was not going to give that up.

But as of late, his hatred toward you and his determination to beat you blurred that love for the sport. He just wanted to win. Against you.

Track Runner!Ryomen Sukuna who wanted to throw himself across the field when coach told him he had to be partnered with you for "training".

"Scouts are going to be at this weeks meet and we need you to be at peak performance. Especially if you want that scholarship," coach says, raising a knowing eyebrow toward Sukuna.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Sukuna grumbles, dragging his feet as he makes his way over to you. He rolled his eyes at the way you tied up your spikes all confidently and the way you started stretching like you knew exactly what you were doing. God, he wanted to puke.

Track Runner!Ryomen Sukuna who grumbled and groaned and complained the entire time you tried talking to him. He hated every idea you threw at him, and rolled his eyes every time you so much as blinked at him. No, he didnt want to jog a couple warm up laps, no he didnt want to stretch (with you), and no, he absolutely didn't want to talk about what he needed to improve on.

Sukuna was the best, he didn't need to improve on anything. It's literally just running.

Track Runner!Ryomen Sukuna who's baffled when you say

"You sure? Because you run like you're trying to prove something instead of just running," you say while swinging your arms.

"Also, your stride is a bit sloppy...I think we could work on that?" You suggest and Sukuna is caught off guard for a moment.

You didnt sound like you were teasing. You seemed to actually be pointing out a flaw and Sukuna didn't like that. He didnt need improvement. But the nagging feeling telling him you were right itched at the back of his mind.

"Tch. My stride isn't sloppy." He grumbles, crossing his arms, his stubbornness evident.

Track Runner!Ryomen Sukuna who considers that maybe you were right. Maybe he did need to work on some stuff, but he doesn't want your help. Unfortunately for him, he doesn't have a choice. So, Sukuna swallows down his pride—only some—and gives in.

"What would you...suggest..." He's obviously not use to asking for help.

Track Runner!Ryomen Sukuna who already saw improvement from your training. You had him practicing high knees, side steps, and calf hops, and Sukuna could already see progress.

Track Runner!Ryomen Sukuna didn't want you to get the wrong idea though. just because you were helping him did not mean you two were friends. Far from it, actually. With your advice, it gives sukuna an opportunity to get better than you, which was his ultimate goal.

Track Runner!Ryomen Sukuna goes home with a strange warmth pooling in his stomach—one he refuses to name. He didn't recognize this feeling, the warmness he felt. The amount of attention and care you were putting into his training really caught him off guard.

You were being...sweet? The way your soft hands felt against his shoulder when he did a good job at something, or the way your eyes would light up when you saw his improvement.

The entire time during practice he kept telling himself that he still hated you, that this was just for a couple more months until you guys graduate and he never has to see you again. That he was just using you for his benefit so then he could be the best.

But why did his stomach turn every time you praised him? Every time you looked at him, he felt a tightness in the back of his throat—not like he was about to vomit—it was different.

Track Runner!Ryomen Sukuna recalls all the past times you both interacted, his memory shifting perspectives of you. You were kind. Encouraging. And somehow, all of that made him feel worse. You never had an ounce of pride in your bones, always so humble.

Track Runner!Ryomen Sukuna wonders if it ever really was hate. Or maybe he had been lying to himself all along. I mean, hes never had a conversation with you, only exchanges due to forced proximity, coaches orders. Hes never recalled a time where he ever not hated you.

It seemed like the moment he met you, he despised you without a reason, but now that he actually talked to you, he found himself burning for more.

But, It wasn’t admiration. It wasn’t anything. It was just training. That’s all. Or that's what he was telling himself.

Track Runner!Ryomen Sukuna got a taste of your sweetness—and now he’s addicted.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦　⁺ 　 . ✦

A/n: hello hello hello I'm freaking out anyway I hope you like it skaterboy!ino is coming out next love you guys bye

Oh also sukuna and reader are seniors in high school now, but they will be graduated and in college before the smutty stuff happenss 😌↕️

Series masterlist

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