#wide rectangle

[devicecontact]

think about doc and auditor both having the squinty red eye design thing. Not much to say about it other than like how fun that guys with Very opposing but slightly similar positions have that kind of visual similarity. And now they get to hit eachother with hammers YAYY!!!!!!!

[grimauxiliatrixofficial]

Heathcliff is pretty wild. I cannot defend this guy at all.

And yet he vexes me.

[lazerinth]

“omg athena where have you been? your art posts are less consistent than usual” babes I was kindly gifted a fresh, crisp sketchbook last week and haven’t been the same. I live in there now. All I know is pen and paper and god awful sketches because I’m so awful at traditional.

[casper-ghostly]

I don't go here but anyone who draws Falin as anything but being broad and wide shouldered is a coward

This is an official Broad Bitch Protection Squad post

[darkestrellar]

This guy does NOT have broad shoulders if it looks like he has any width to his shoulders he's cheating using his clothes

[dashi-inu]

was trying out some filters with my fave and i have so many screenshots of him and I'm trying to organize my files in my laptop and idk where else to put these away so I'll just put tadashi in here <3

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

i remembed "original flavor spader" and promptly changed my name

[kurp-stuff]

.

[mzcain27]

How do you measure your own shoulders

[3dcrystalonus]

Capture Memories in a 3D Crystal Rectangle Wide

Turn your favorite photo into a stunning keepsake with the 3D Crystal Rectangle Wide from 3D Crystals On Us! Perfect for preserving special moments or giving as a unique gift. Personalize yours today and make your memories shine forever.

[cherrypikkins]

@dimiclaudeblaigan asked for a tutorial on how to begin drawing. Good news! If you can draw a funky looking stick man, you have already started!

I think that stick people are a great starting point for artists because of the things you can learn from them that will be important later on.

If you are able to draw a circle and a couple of lines, you can easily put together a stick person.

Congratulations! You have started to draw. :)

A stick person is a very minimal artistic representation of a real life person. It is simple yet recognizable, and is widely used in art, media, and signage.

But what can a stick person teach us about drawing people that look more like… well, people? Lets have a look!

By simply adding a few more lines, we can add a pair of eyes and a mouth. Maybe even a little triangle nose! Or half circles for ears. We can now draw a face, which provides a basis for all sorts of expressions.

These simple additions can allow us to explore the wide range of human emotion and individuality.

This may seem like the basics of the basics. But that is what we want! In order to get to the point where we are able to draw complex, elaborate representations of humans and objects, we will need to start with simple shapes like lines and circles and build our understanding from there.

For instance, lets give our stick person some cool new features, such as hands and feet. I chose little squiggly circles to represent hands, and triangles to represent feet.

We can go a step further and modify the body of the stick person to include shoulders, hips, elbows and knees. These parts of the human body are quite complex in real life But here, all we need to do is add a few simple lines and dots to our stick person.

The lines provide some additional structural elements to our stick person's body, which are the shoulders and the hips. The dots indicate the points of articulation - elbows and knees, the places where the arms and legs bend!

Now we can use our stick person to show us an even wider range of human movement, action, and expression.

Our little drawing of a human being is evolving! All it took was adding a few more lines and shapes here and there.

By elongating some of the existing lines and making the head an oval instead of a circle, we can give our stick person proportions that resemble that of a real life human.

By this point, we have managed to add more complexity to our stick person simply by using our ability to draw lines, circles, and other basic shapes!

These basic ideas are the building blocks that will enable us to create more complex shapes.

The next part may be a considerable step up if you are absolutely new to drawing, but I have decided to include it in order to show you how complex objects like the human body can be built from shapes that are a bit more complex than circles and lines.

For example. Two ovals and a rectangle can be combined to create a cylinder.

Six squares can be combined to create a cube, or a box. Here, each square is distorted slightly depending on which way the cube is facing.

Note that the back faces of the cube and the bottom of the cylinder are hidden. These shapes allow us to visualize that which should not normally visible.

A sphere from all perspectives can be represented by a circle. But we can make it more like a sphere by adding lighting and shadow if we so desire.

Cubes, cylinders, and spheres are examples of 'solid shapes' because they consist of 3 dimensions.

Lets see how these solid shapes can be used to compose the human body.

By stacking three cylindrical objects, we can create a torso. Two spheres have been added to form shoulders, while a smaller cylinder forms the neck.

An arm is an alternating sequence of spheres and cylinders connected together. Note that the hand has been simplified for this example.

We can apply these solid shapes to the rest of the body to give us a more recognizable representation of the human form. It doesn't even have to be perfect. And just like that, our stick figure now has a silhouette that is unmistakably a person!

In the above examples, notice that we kept the stick person at the beginning while building up the shapes and solids around it. This is because the stick person serves as a guide for positioning the body and its various parts -> also known as posing.

You can do the same thing to everyday objects! Here, I drew a wine glass by stacking these three dimensional solid shapes.

The cup and its contents are two ovoid shapes that were cut in half. The stem is a very thin cylinder shape. The base is a cylinder with a slightly wider bottom.

Solid shapes help inform us how objects and parts of the human body may appear from different perspectives.

For example, a sphere can be used to demonstrate how the human head appears when looking up or down, turned to the side, or tilted at an angle.

With these examples, I hope I have managed to convinced you that if you can draw a circle and a couple of lines, you can draw a person! You just have to train your eye to recognize the simple shapes within complex objects. Try it with everyday objects as well! Or even your favourite media! A drawing subject can be as simple or as complex as you envision it to be.

Once you have mastered that, there are many aspects of drawing you can explore from here that may require you to seek additional resources or a fellow artist's advice.

Last of all, remember that drawing is an iterative process. Even if you draw something correct the first time, you will need to draw it again and again to get it right all times! And by making small changes like the ones we explored in this tutorial, your drawings will gradually transform!

I hope what I've demonstrated here are enough to provide the basics of how to get started with drawing objects and people, and also to help refresh more experienced artists. :) Hopefully I didn't go too off topic with what was requested, and let me know if there are any more questions I can answer.

Cheers :3

[satoblue]

your heart sinks with every nauseating tick of the clock, signaling the hours that pass until dinner.

satoru promised he’d be here on time no matter what and so you waited, yet you find yourself alone at the table, unable to stomach your food. with a heavy sigh, you store everything inside containers to put in the fridge, making sure to cover his plate in saran wrap for when he returned so he could heat it up, ignoring that dark voice in the back of your head that told you it wasn’t necessary because he might not be coming back to you at all.

shaking away the negative thoughts, you head to bed, only to toss and turn in your sheets for what feels like an eternity because oddly enough, it doesn’t feel the same. they’re colder than usual, unlike the home you’re used to, and perhaps that was because you normally could not sleep without him. but combined with the anxiousness and worry, it was practically impossible at this point, and somehow the warmth around you fades increasingly every moment he’s not here with you.

frustrated and fearful tears prick at your eyes, and you clutch his pillow close to your chest, inhaling the lingering scent of your husband and hoping it never fades. could this be it? would this finally be the day he doesn’t return back safely into your arms? the day you’ve dreaded ever since he made you part of his world?

in the deafening and unnatural silence, you think your ears play a trick on you when they pick up on a distant clattering down the hall from your bedroom. your eyes shoot open, breath hitching — and the beating organ in your chest stops for a second. perhaps it was the cat? or perhaps it was a trick from how loudly your heart thunders in your ears and chest. it does absolutely nothing to stop you as you slowly pad your way back into the dimly lit kitchen for the final time that night, seeking the hopeful confirmation that will breathe stability back into your lungs.

……..it was him. it was really him. he was back.

but he was hurt.

though you felt in that moment it was the least of your current concerns so you’d acknowledge that later. he seemed fine in the grand scheme of things. right now however, you felt more relief than anything — and maybe a little bit of anger. not at him though, never at him, not truly.

you felt frozen in place, watching as he rummages through the refrigerator. rubbing your eyes and blinking away the fatigue and tears, you try ensuring what you were seeing was reality and not just a figment of your imagination, your words stuck in your throat. in an attempt to stay strong, inevitably, your voice wobbles.

“you’re late.”

and satoru, that idiot, whips his head to face you with wide eyes, straightening up at the sight of you before flashing a sheepish grin in response despite the numerous cuts littering his pretty face, rubbing the back of his neck in the way that he does when he’s at a loss for words. and maybe he is, maybe because he almost just died, and yet instead of coming to greet you and tell you that he’s safe (for the most part) — instead he decides to ravage the fridge, one scarred arm stuck in the cool rectangle like a child caught sneaking cookies from the jar.

“i know. i’m always late.” he breathes through an infuriating huff of laughter, as if everything was okay. “i told you i’d be home for dinner — and technically it’s not midnight just yet……so i still made it on time, right?”

he always has to have the last word.

[moonlightdreamzz]

somewhere between yours, and his

chapter one — what we don’t talk about. | chapter two — half-truths and jungle juice

summary. you and jungwon are just best friends. housemates. you know, the kind who kiss when no one’s looking. the kind who sleep too close and never talk about it. the kind who swear it’s nothing, even when it’s everything.

then jake’s cousin sunghoon shows up—quiet, sharp, a little too pretty, and acting like he’s above it all. he’s only supposed to be visiting. just passing through. but he stays. and he watches you. and he starts saying things no one else dares to say.

jungwon’s the one who’s always been there. sunghoon’s the one who makes your skin burn. you’re stuck in the middle of something that isn’t quite love—but it’s not not love, either. it’s messy. it’s reckless. it’s kind of a problem. but it might also be the best kind of trouble you’ve ever been in.

pairing. jungwon x reader x sunghoon.

genre. college!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, smut.

themes. love triangle, messy relationships and decisions, love or lust?

authors note. really hope you all enjoy this. i love a good love triangle with a complex plot—nothing hits harder than wanting two people for completely different reasons. this one’s close to my heart, so buckle up. it’s soft, it’s messy, and nobody’s playing fair.

the morning smells like cinnamon, overcooked eggs, and the same damn candle jake always insists on lighting when girls are coming over—vanilla something. you hate it, but you never blow it out.

light filters through the living room windows in wide, lazy rectangles, catching on dust in the air like static. it’s a thursday that feels like a sunday. slow. syrupy. too warm inside, too cold outside.

you’re sitting on the kitchen counter in shorts and someone else’s hoodie. you’re not sure if it’s jake’s or jay’s or jungwon’s, but it’s oversized and smells like detergent and boy, so you keep it. bare legs swinging. phone in your hand. not texting anyone back.

there’s music playing—lofi, soft and beatless—because jungwon hates silence in the mornings.

he’s in the kitchen with you, halfway through scrambling eggs he’s already messed up once. tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek like he’s solving a puzzle harder than breakfast. his sleeves are pushed up. hair still messy from sleep. he hasn’t shaved.

his voice is hoarse when he says, “you could help, you know.”

you look up from your phone. blink at him, bored. “i could. but i like watching you struggle.”

he cuts you a look, quick and half-smiling. he always does that when you flirt with him like it doesn’t mean anything. you do it more than you admit.

“you’re the worst,” he mutters, but he’s smiling for real now. you see the dimples.

“and you love me.”

he doesn’t answer. just hands you the first plate and turns back to the stove.

jungwon and you have this… thing. it isn’t a thing. but it is.

you’re best friends. but not like “haha we’re besties” best friends. more like i-know-how-you-like-your-toast, i-know-what-time-you-cried-last-week, i-know-you-well-enough-to-sit-in-your-silence best friends. you have history, but not the kind you tell people about. not the kind you even tell each other about.

just moments. stacks of them. sleepovers that turn into shared beds. movie nights that end with you curled into his chest pretending not to feel the way he stiffens when your hips shift.

he never pulls away. he also never makes a move.

you bring the plate to the couch, plop down cross-legged. he follows, and sits beside you, thigh to thigh— remote in hand like always, already queuing up something silly on youtube.

“why do we watch food vlogs while we eat food?” you ask.

“motivation.”

“you’re literally eating.”

“doesn’t mean i’m not planning my next meal.”

his knee bumps yours and doesn’t move. you’re not paying attention to the screen. you’re watching his hands.

he doesn’t wear rings like jake or bracelets like jay. just clean wrists, long fingers, callused in the places his engineering tools left behind.

you like his hands too much.

breakfast turns into scrolling. scrolling turns into dozing. you’re not sure who falls asleep first, but when you open your eyes, you’re leaning into him, his head tilted against yours. breathing even. he’s warm. always so warm.

you don’t move. just stay there, eyes half open, watching the soft rise of his chest beneath his crewneck. watching the light move across the floor.

his arm shifts. wraps around you. not tight. just enough. like habit.

like he forgets he’s not supposed to do that.

you stretch. slowly. limbs falling away from jungwon’s like you weren’t just nestled against his heartbeat. like you haven’t had his mouth on yours before.

not that it means anything. just drunk. just heat and music and mouths moving too close.

just that one night in jake’s room after everyone else passed out—when you ended up on top of him, grinding slow to whatever song is playing. his hands stayed on your waist. yours in his hair. his breath breaking when you moaned into his neck like it’s nothing.

or that second night in the hallway, when he kissed you so hard you almost fell over—half-dressed, giggling—until he pulled away too fast and said,

“we should stop.”

so you stop. you never tell anyone. he never brings it up. but it lingers like a bruise you keep pressing.

you blink hard, shake the memory off, and look over at jungwon. his hand rests against his stomach, head tipped back on the couch. his eyes meet yours. soft. unreadable.

the front door opened. you heard it before you saw it.

then a voice,

“yo.” it’s jake.

“couch potatoes,” jake called from the kitchen. “my cousin’s coming soon.”

jungwon grunted. “huh?”

“sunghoon. remember? i told y’all. he’s visiting for a few days. thinking about transferring.”

“oh. yeah.”

jungwon sits up. rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm like he didn’t just almost hold you all the way to sleep. he sees what you’re wearing. the hoodie. oversized and too familiar. not his.

“you should change,” he says.

you raise a brow. “why?”

“you’re wearing jay’s.”

you smirk. “jealous?”

“just saying.”

but there it is. the flicker in his eyes. that flash of memory neither of you ever name.

you pull the hoodie tighter around you anyway.

that moment hums in the space between you. like an unanswered question. like something half-written.

jake walks into the living room like he owns the place. (which he kind of does—his name’s not on the lease, but somehow he always has the aux and the fridge key.)

he’s barefoot, eating dry cereal out the box. he glances at you on the couch, then at jungwon, who’s now pretending he wasn’t just emotionally undressing you with his eyes.

“so listen,” jake starts, crunching mid-sentence, “y’all know that party at gamma tonight?”

you raise an eyebrow. jungwon grunts like yeah.

jake waves it off. “yeah, well, i’m thinking we skip it. bring the party here. you feel me?”

you blink. “wait, what?”

he shrugs, like it’s nothing. “just for the vibe. for sunghoon. bro’s swearing we’re lame over here. like we don’t got it. like this whole school’s boring as hell.”

“so you wanna throw a whole function just to prove a point?” you ask.

jake points at you with a finger full of cereal. “exactly.”

you glance at jungwon. he shrugs like he’s indifferent, but he’s already pulling out his phone to text jay.

“i mean,” jake continues, flopping down into the armchair like he’s pitching a business plan, “we’re already here. it’s our house. no one’s gotta worry about getting home drunk. and he’ll get the vibe. and maybe finally shut up about how ‘lit’ the city is compared to this place.”

“what city is he even from?” you ask.

“malibu, by way of seoul. but, like, the rich part,” jake says, making a face. “he thinks he’s better than everybody.”

“is he?” jungwon mumbles.

jake throws a cushion at him. you dodge it instead.

“nah, he’s cool,” jake says after a beat, “he’s just got that face, you know? the kind you wanna punch even when he’s being nice.”

you snort. “sounds promising.”

“don’t worry. you’ll love him.” jake grins at you. you do not return it.

jungwon taps something into his phone. “jay says he’s down. sunoo too.”

you sigh. “so it’s really happening.”

“oh, it’s happening,” jake says, standing up and already heading toward the bluetooth speaker like a man with a mission. “by the weekend, this house is gonna remind sunghoon exactly why we don’t need to transfer anywhere.”

he disappears down the hall, yelling something about liquor and chips.

you and jungwon sit in silence for a second, and the air changes.

he stretches his arm behind the couch, eyes on the ceiling. “you gonna get cute for him?”

you look at him sideways. “who?”

he doesn’t look at you. just shrugs, like the question was nothing. “the rich cousin.”

you smirk. lean back against the cushion, letting your bare leg press against his jeans. “you want me to?”

he doesn’t answer. but he doesn’t move away either.

the silence stretches.

not awkward. not yet. but thick—like you’ve both just remembered something you’re supposed to forget.

the tv’s still on, playing some random food vlog neither of you are watching. your leg stays pressed to his, warm through the denim. his hand is right there. resting on the couch cushion between you, fingers curled slightly like he’s about to move but doesn’t.

you glance down at it. then at him. his jaw is tight. his eyes are still on the ceiling like he’s trying not to look at you. you slide your fingers across the space. slow. just enough to brush his. and when you feel his pinky twitch against yours—you don’t stop.

your hand finds his. you don’t hold it, not really. just… let your fingers tangle halfway. and he lets them.

his breath hitches, barely audible.

you look at him. he’s already looking at you. eyes low. soft. like he’s scared to blink.

you both lean in at the same time.

no one speaks. your nose brushes his. your fingers tighten just a little. his lips part—just enough. your eyes flick to his mouth.

and that’s when it happens.

his phone rings.

it’s loud in the silence. ugly and immediate. the default ringtone, buzzing across the table like it’s mad.

jungwon jolts back like he got burned. you both jump a little, breath caught mid-moment. he pulls his hand away fast, clearing his throat like it helps.

“…it’s jay,” he mumbles, already grabbing his phone.

you sit back slow, trying to look chill while your heart hammers against your ribs.

he answers.

“yo… yeah, we’re here. no, she’s—she’s right here. yeah, we told her. yeah, it’s fine.”

you stand quietly. walk past him. don’t say a word. you head straight for your room, the door clicking shut behind you.

he watches you go, phone still pressed to his ear, heart in his throat. he doesn’t say it out loud, but it’s all over him. he wishes the phone hadn’t rung. he wishes you had kissed him. he wishes he’d let it happen.

even though you never talked about it, you still slept in his bed that night.

he didn’t say anything when you walked past your room and climbed under his covers—just lifted the blanket like he always does, turned off the light, and let you curl into his chest like nothing almost happened.

he held you all night. he didn’t try anything. he didn’t say anything, either.

but you felt him kiss your forehead when he thought you were asleep. and when he finally drifted off, you stayed awake a little longer, watching the way his fingers twitched against your arm like he was dreaming about holding you tighter.

you didn’t bring it up the next morning. neither did he.

and then last night—same thing. no talking. no explaining. just his bed and his body curved around yours like a habit that never got broken.

now it’s friday, and jake’s tearing through the house like a man possessed.

he’s blasting music from the kitchen, half-dressed, holding two bags of red solo cups and yelling about how no one’s done anything he asked.

“we literally skipped class for this,” he shouts, tossing chips onto the counter like that solves something. “the least y’all can do is act like you’ve been to a party before.”

sunoo is lighting candles in the living room like it’s a spa retreat, muttering to himself about ambiance and scent mixing.

jay in his room changing for the third time.

jungwon’s wiping down the kitchen counters, pretending like he doesn't get the best sleep of his life when it's you on his chest. like he isn't utterly in love with you. it doesn't help that you're still in his hoodie, the same one you've been sleeping in for the past two nights. all he can think about is how you’re so...beautiful, and so his. at least that's how it makes him feel when you crawl into his arms. when you wear his clothes. when you kiss his cheek in the middle of the night because you think he's sleeping. so why can't he just...go for it?

and you? you’re sitting on the edge of the armrest, sipping something pink and dangerous out of a plastic cup, watching the house shift into something new.

the lights are dimmer. the music’s louder. the vibe’s getting blurry around the edges.

that’s when you hear it— the knock at the door.

not loud. just one, then another. like he’s not here to make a scene. like he doesn’t have to.

jake practically leaps across the room to open it, and there he is.

sunghoon.

black jeans, black hoodie, black duffel slung over one shoulder like he didn’t try but somehow still looks better than everyone in the house. his expression is blank. his face is sharp. he gives jake a nod, steps inside, eyes sweeping the room.

and then he sees you.

he doesn’t smile. he just looks.

and something about it makes your skin feel too tight.

you don’t say anything. neither does he. but the shift is immediate. like the air’s not yours anymore.

he’s taller than you expected. taller than jake, even. but lean—built like someone who moves fast but never runs. he doesn’t look like someone you’re supposed to be impressed by. he looks like someone who knows you already are.

his face is sharp. every angle defined like it was drawn with a ruler and no eraser. a high nose bridge. cut jawline. straight brows that make his expression unreadable. but it’s not just the bone structure—it’s the stillness. the way he doesn’t fidget. doesn’t smile too fast. doesn’t feel the need to do anything but exist.

your eyes meet for half a second. long enough to register how clear his skin is. how cold his stare feels. you look away first.

“this is my cousin,” jake announces, slapping a hand on sunghoon’s shoulder. “sunghoon. just got here from cali. he’s here for the weekend. maybe longer, if he likes it.”

sunghoon nods. looks around, taking in the living room like he’s scanning for threats. his eyes settle on you again.

“yo,” he says, voice low and casual. he nods once. “you’re…?”

jake says your name at the same time you do. sunghoon’s mouth twitches like he wants to smile, but doesn’t.

“cool,” he says. “nice to meet you.”

his voice isn’t cocky. it’s calm. a little too calm. you just nod. no words. just sip your drink and look somewhere—anywhere—else.

but he keeps looking. not long. not creepy. just… like he sees something he doesn’t quite get yet. and he’s deciding whether or not he wants to.

“you good?” jake asks him, grabbing a cup off the counter.

“yeah.” sunghoon sets his bag down by the door. “just tired. this place is nice though.”

“he thought we were lame,” jake tells you, clearly offended. “texted me last week like, ‘if your school’s so fun, why’s everyone online acting depressed?’”

“i said that once,” sunghoon mutters, taking the drink jake hands him. “and i wasn’t wrong.”

“he’s a hater,” jake says, then points at you. “she’s gonna change your mind.”

you blink. “what?”

“you got main character energy,” jake grins. “you’ll bring him around.”

you scoff. “he looks like he’d hate main characters.”

sunghoon actually smiles at that. just a little. and then he says, “not always.”

jungwon watches from the kitchen, still wiping the same spot on the counter that’s already clean.

he’s not eavesdropping. not really, he just… hears everything.

the way jake’s hyping sunghoon up. the way your voice dips when you respond. the way you don’t say much, but your body shifts to face him just a little more than usual.

you’re still holding your drink. still wearing his hoodie. but it’s like you’ve already floated somewhere else.

sunghoon doesn’t say much, but that’s the part that bothers jungwon the most.

he doesn’t need to. he’s got that look—cool and unreadable, like he knows exactly how he’s being perceived. like he knows the effect he has.

and you’re not falling for it, not really, but jungwon can see it. the little spark of curiosity in your eyes. the way your lips twitch at sunghoon’s joke. the way you sip your drink slower now, like you’re giving yourself a reason to stay planted in that moment.

he presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek.

he knows he’s not allowed to feel some type of way. he had chances. too many. he never says the right thing.

but watching sunghoon look at you like he’s already picking you apart—like he’s interested and not even pretending otherwise—it makes something cold settle in his chest.

he wipes the counter again, but he doesn’t realize his grip on the cloth has tightened. fuck.

[beloveds-embrace]

Feral getting to take the muzzle off for an extended time....but only because it's time for their check-up.

It was quiet in the infirmary. The sterile hum of medical equipment thrummed softly through the floor, and filtered light from the overhead fluorescents fell in wide, pale rectangles across the exam table where you sat, back straight, limbs still.

The muzzle had just been unlocked by John.

You could still feel it- a ghost weight, like an unwanted phantom limb. The pressure at your jawline, the cruel pinch where the corners had dug into the skin, the heat of synthetic straps made to outlast bullets. But now, it sat beside you in a reinforced case, untouched for the first time in days.

And still, you didn’t move.

“Easy, lass,” Johnny still murmured from your left, crouched low so he was level with you. “It’s just for the check-up, yeah? Will nae let ‘em hurt you.”

You blinked slowly, breath measured, tongue heavy in your mouth from disuse. There was no need to answer, not when your stillness spoke volumes and not when the slight tremble in your fingers told them everything they needed to know.

Simon stood at the door like a silent sentinel, arms crossed, shoulders tense, and Kyle leaned against the far wall, watching with something soft in his eyes.

But John moved in slow, deliberate steps to stand before you again, scent deep and grounding in the air “You’ve been good,” he said, voice low and sure. “Just gonna check your teeth before the doctor does, love. No surprises.”

Johnny was already fussing, soft hands tucking a bit of hair back from your temple, brushing his knuckles down your cheek.

“Won’t take long,” he promised, accent gentler than usual, all treacle warmth and protectiveness- reminded you of the candy and toffee pieces they slip you occasionally. “We’ll be right here. Me ‘n John’ll look after you.”

You tilted your chin a fraction, a gesture so small it might’ve gone unnoticed by anyone else. But Johnny brightened, caught the signal for what it was.

“Atta girl,” he whispered, a little purr in his tone. “Good love.”

The words shivered through you, low and sweet, a praise you hadn’t realized you wanted until it was given.

John stepped closer then, and though you could not smell it, his scent swept around you like a heavy coat of safety and familiarity. Alpha.

One gloved hand came up to cup your jaw, slow and careful. His thumb traced beneath your cheekbone while the other hand nudged at your lower lip, gentle.

“Open up for me, sweetheart.” He murmured, and you did as he asked.

There was no hesitation; not for him, and not for Johnny’s hand still brushing your nape in steady circles; not for the way Simon stood so still in the doorway, tension radiating like a stormcloud on your behalf, and not for Gaz’s watchful presence, ever your silent anchor.

John examined your teeth with the calm, clinical focus of someone used to being trusted with the most vulnerable moments. His brows furrowed slightly.

“Bruising at the gums,” he muttered. “Damn thing’s pinching too hard.”

“I told ‘em that muzzle’s too tight,” Johnny growled. “She does nae eat right with it on.”

You blinked again, slower this time, like a cat. So you could let them see how obedient you were. Let them see how calm you could be, how good, because you didn’t want them to worry.

But Johnny knew you better than that.

“Yer tryin’ to make it easy on us,” he said, forehead resting briefly against your temple, his purring deeper as it returned. He felt like an engine pressed against you. “Aren’t you?”

You didn’t answer because you didn’t need to.

John finished his inspection and leaned back slightly, his fingers still resting against your cheek. “You’re good,” he rumbled, low and deep. “You always are. But that doesn’t mean you have to suffer in silence, you understand me?”

You blinked once more, then a slight exhale until it was almost a nod.

He brushed his thumb along your chin, and for one precious moment, you felt… real. Not a weapon nor an asset.

Just theirs.

“When the doctor comes, I’ll convince him to let you have more days off from that awful thing.”

[yokohamapound]

Ooh, a new BSD blog! :D How about the reactions of Dazai, Ranpo, Chuuya, Akutagawa and Fyodor when they see their female S/O in fancy attire for the first time? Like if they're going to some formal events together as a couple.

Hmm, it's almost like you knew I am addicted to fancy clothes...this sent me on a deep dive through my extensive Pinterest board.

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Edogawa Ranpo, Nakahara Chuuya, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Fyodor Dostoevsky

Contents: fem!reader, possessive, controlling Fyodor

Dazai Osamu

Dazai is the type of man to enjoy seeing you in everything you wear, especially when you're puttering around the apartment in just one of his his shirts, but seeing you in formalwear is something special.

Maybe it's another award ceremony for the Armed Detective Agency, a fancy gala that requires you to wear something more upscale than business casual. Dazai has a suit he can fall back on—probably something in a dark blue or a shade of camel, because black reminds him too much of his time in the Port Mafia.

He's waiting in the living room for you to come out of the bedroom, periodically whining for you to come out of the bedroom and pay attention to him.

"I'm going to die of neglect out here," he calls forlornly. "And I always wanted us to die togeth—"

The door slides open, and Dazai cuts off his wailing, looking over his shoulder. There's a moment of silence—yes, actual silence from Dazai—as his gaze moves slowly up your legs, his eyes getting progressively wider as he takes in the slinky little number clinging to your curves, how the neckline reveals the arch of your throat. Your make-up, those smoky eyes and glossy lips...

"I don't want to go," he blurts, shuffling over on his knees and wrapping his arms around your waist. "Let's stay home. I'll pour you sake and feed you grapes."

Edogawa Ranpo

Ranpo doesn't tend to make a big deal about what you wear. He notices of course, because he notices everything, but he'll only comment if you're wearing something particularly cute or if he's deduced something interesting from your choice of attire, which usually goes like:

"Are you wearing that skirt 'cause you wanted me to notice you waxed your legs?"

"Ranpo, even if you know something, it doesn't mean you have to say it."

"What? You wanted me to notice and I'm noticing. It's not my fault you're not subtle," he says, grinning around his lollipop.

"Right, because I'm the one that's not subtle."

He's fiddling with his tie as the pair of you get ready for a formal event thrown in the ADA's honour (normally he'd complain about going to something so boring, but Fukuzawa promised him there'd be a buffet and lots of people wanting to praise him) and complaining that he can't tie it and he doesn't want to wear it.

"Oh, you big baby," you chide playfully, sauntering out of the bedroom, heels clicking as you fix one of your earrings in place "You wear a tie every day."

Taking the ends of the tie, you start to weave it into a simple Windsor knot, glancing up to see Ranpo gawking at you, his pretty green eyes wide open. For once, his brain isn't processing information at warp speed. It's crickets in there, like he's short-circuited.

"That good, huh?" you ask, tightening his tie. "No deductions, smart boy?"

"Uh..." Ranpo falters a bit as you draw him closer by his carefully knotted tie. "Nope."

You give him a kiss and release him. He's grinning like a Cheshire Cat as he follows you to the door.

"Hey, is there room for snacks in your clutch?"

Nakahara Chuuya

If you're Chuuya's girl, you'll never want for the finer things in life, but that first, first time he sees you all dolled up is very memorable. Even if you have cash of your own, he would have handed you his shiny black card, pressing it into your hand with a kiss and a grin.

"Let me treat ya. Don't even look at the prices."

After some credit card BDSM—that plastic rectangle got used and abused and it liked it—you came back to the penthouse laden with shopping bags, your hair freshly styled, a mani pedi, and a facial. By the time Chuuya comes to pick you up, you're dolled up to the nines.

Chuuya walks in, calling out for you, only to stop dead in his tracks when he sees you. You've got your back to him, carefully fixing the edge of your lipstick in the vanity mirror, when you spot his reflection.

"Hey, babe, almost ready," you say, turning to face him.

A slow grin breaks out across Chuuya's face. He reaches up and pushes his hat back, as if to see you better, his blue eyes wide.

"Fuck me, doll," he says, his voice coming out rough. "You look incredible..."

You make a show of checking your beautiful antique watch. "I don't think we have time for that right now, but when we get home..."

Chuuya lets out a groan, pulling you toward him by the hips. You won't let him smudge your fresh lipstick, so he leaves a love bite on your throat instead, like a promise for later.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Akutagawa swears by formalwear (even if his taste in formalwear is over a century out of date), so he's no stranger to being suited and booted. Perhaps the two of you have been tasked to infiltrate a high society soiree as part of Mori's plans, or perhaps you are his undercover bodyguards while he attends one himself.

Akutagawa dislikes clothes shopping, so he flatly refused to accompany you to buy a dress for the occasion. This is probably for the best. It's a lot less stressful to shop with Gin and Higuchi than it is with an irritable, murderous Ryuunosuke dogging your heels and glaring daggers at the sales assistant.

Which is to say, he has no idea what you are wearing until you show up to the gala. He's watching Mori from near the wall, his hands thrust into the pockets of his long black coat. Disinterested.

His pale grey eyes sweep over you at first, mistaking you for another of the wealthy partygoers.

Then they snap back, going wide. Akutagawa stands there as if he's been locked into place as you saunter over to join him, a flute of champagne in each hand.

The way the dress moves, how it flows or clings to the various planes and curves of your body, how you move while you wear it, as if you've become a new, elevated version of yourself.

"Sorry I'm late," you say, handing him a champagne flute. He's surprised enough to take it without muttering that he doesn't like champagne. "The boss did say to arrive separately."

"...what are you wearing?" he finally manages to say. "You look—"

"Ridiculous? Yeah, I know, but this is what we have to wear to these stupid things. I can't even get away with hiding a gun under this thing."

"No—"

Too late, you've already moved away toward the buffet to grab a couple of hors d'oeuvres for you and him. Akutagawa finds his voice a little too late.

"You don't look ridiculous."

Fyodor Dostoevsky

I can guarantee with 100% certainty that Fyodor knows exactly what you're wearing, because he took you to the exclusive boutique in order to purchase it—after he had you model several dozen gowns for his appreciation and approval. He had to spend all that money he stole from the Guild on something, after all, so there were shoes and jewellery into the bargain.

There are staff to pamper you: a hairstylist, a nail tech, and a make-up artist, all under strict orders not to speak to you or dare look you in the eye as they primp and doll you up.

"Doll" being the operative word, because you look like a porcelain doll by the time they're done with you.

Airy layers float around you as you carefully pick your way down the sweeping staircase, ankles wobbling in your slightly-too-high heels, giving you that vulnerable, fawnish air that Fyodor likes so much.

He stands at the bottom of the stairs, cool violet eyes watching every tentative step. His masterpiece is complete.

"Myshka," he purrs at the sight of you. "You look perfect."

He offers you his hand, cold fingers closing around yours as you stumble off the very last step and into his arms. He makes a soft, slightly mocking sound of amusement in the back of his throat.

"Careful, darling," he chides, his hand settling firmly, possessively in the small of your back. "I can't have you falling for anyone but me."

The humour carries a note of truth. Fyodor's finger traces along the line of your jaw, curling beneath your chin and tipping your face up toward his. His breath ghosts over your lips.

"I will have to dress you this way more often."

AO3 | Other Blogs: Bleach | BNHA | Naruto | JJK

[deadghosy]

How they would react to teen sinner! Reader getting catcalled/ S/A:

WARNING: long depending on your reading speed, explicit language, uncomfortable themes, read if you don’t wanna read anything you have encountered in life like this. If you are dealing with s/a please call your national hotline. This will be the only time I write something like this cause this is a serious topic.

LUCIFER

It was late in the pride ring as you snuck out of the hotel wanting to get snacks and a drink. I mean shit you died in the late 2010’s, you’re use to this shit. So you went to a store as you didn’t see an older sinner smirk, slowly gazing your body up and down as you grab a pair of chips and energy soda.

“Hey sweetie…” the older sinner says as he slowly appears behind you. You divest even bother to look at him as you felt him get closer. You whipped around and glare at him only to see such an ugly sinner who looks homeless as well.

“Hey now, I’m not gonna harm you.” The man says grabbing your arm and pulling you toward him. “I just wanna see your pretty face little boy/girl.” Your eyes widened shocked. You tried to pull your arm as he tugs tighter. You yelled for him to let you go as he dragged you out the store. You were not gonna let some creep take you! So you bit his arm hard as fuck. He let you go, but not without punching you.

You ate the punch but start to run to the hotel you know and love. You ran as your heart beat for safety and away from anything else. You didn’t think it would be like this, but what could you except. This is hell itself. There’s a lot of ass holes and bastards that deserve to be here.

You ran inside ignoring the look of a certain king who was sitting down in the lounge room, he swore he saw tears fall down your cheeks. He felt his heart ache to know what was wrong with you as he slowly followed after you.

A soft knock was heard as you look up to see the king of hell, the man who always gave you ducks when you first came here. “Kid are you okay? I heard you cry?” He said worried seeing you tear up hearing his worried voice. It wasn’t making it better as you ran into his arms. He was move back a bit at your usually tough attire cracking into a soft and scared one. Now he was concerned.

He set you back in bed as you rant out about what happened, even giving a description of what he looked like. After a bit of comfort in for Lucifer and him petting your back a lot. You sniffled a little, feeling better than what you felt as Lucifer smiled at you sleeping against his lap. He sighs sensing you sleeping as he poofs away from your sleeping body.

“DONT worry kid…that bastard isn’t going to see another hellish day…” Lucifer says walking out of the hotel as his hat overcasted his face.

It was a new day as you woke up to play your regular tv show only for the news to play. “BREAKING 666 NEWS!!! ALLEGED PEDOPHILE DEAD AT GRIMM’S MARKET AS HIS HEAD WAS-” the news was cut off by Lucifer who had a guilty expression as you had a wide eye expression shocked that the bastard got some quick karma.

ALASTOR

You and alastor went on a walk together as he wanted you to get off your pesky small picture rectangle. He’s talking about your damn phone.💀

“And I told the fellow gentleman to make my meat, medium rar-” before Alastor could finish his story about how he went to a restaurant. You groaned tired of this, you wanted to sleep and be on your hell phone since you miss the human world.

Alastor rolls his eyes with a smile, he pinches your cheek making you huff. “No need for an attitude!~” he said in a song tune voice you pushed him away from you embarrassed. “I don’t need to fix my attitude old man..” you say walking a bit forward ahead of the deer demon.

The radio demon chuckles, but the chuckles stops when seeing you immediately get whistled at by a male sinner who eyes you. You flipped the sinner off before going back to Alastor, holding the older’s hand as he slightly move in front of you.

It seemed like this asshole was trying to talk to you, but he couldn’t as alastor smiles down at the sinner. “C'mere sweet thing. Why don’t you come and get a drink with me.” The sinner says. You and Al narrow your eyes at the sinner, you weren’t budging from behind alastor who stands strong and confident

“I don’t think they will be going with you anytime soon my dear fellow.” Alastor says with a strained smile. The sinner was definitely new and didn’t know who was companying you at this very moment.

“I don’t think I give a fuck.” The sinner says teaching his hand out to your frame.

The sinner tried to make an attempt to grab your arm from the radio demon. There was a ring of static in the air whilst making the sinner stop grabbing your arm. Alastor grabs the arm that dares to try and take you from him. Alastor smiles eerily at the sinner.

“I’ll teach you some respect you filthy pest.” He says as static seems to boom the area before he goes full demon mode and drag the filth to the alley to have a nice “talk.”

Their screams were broadcasted on his radio station the day after they whistled at you. Alastor made sure to have his shadow follow you for a few months before he was sure you were fully okay. Harassment towards a minor, is a big no-no.

VAGGIE

You wanted to help her get more flowers for a decoration of a trust exercise, so she let you run the errand.

You ran out the hotel happy and excited. You always weee excited to help the hotel ever since you died. You knew your mom was in heaven so you wanted to be redeemed quickly and possible.

You went to the flower shop smiling which gained the attention of a female who smile sweetly at you. She approached you holding a flower. You knew not to take things from strangers, even demons as Charlie and vaggie told you.

But it’s a flower, what’s the worse that can happen. Plus you need flowers for the event itself. As you grabbed the flower, the flower sprays out this gas that made you feel slight drowsy. You feel your body limp as the woman comes closer to you.

You try to push her off as she caresses your body. With your mustered up strength, you use your sharp nails/claws to stab her eyes and run.

The flower drug was slowly taking affect until you did a few symbols on yourself. You learnt it from Lucifer as he gave you a book. The drug wore off but your mind was scrambling. You felt yucky and violated. As you bursted through the hotel door, accidentally running into vaggie’s arms.

“What the fuck happened!!?” Vaggie says concerned as she sees the bruises on your wrist. Her eyes widen. “What. Happened..” she says seriously.

You explained the situation while sobbing softly. Vaggie comforted you in her hold as she closed her eyes ashamed at how she wasn’t there to protect you. She was suppose to your guarden. Your parental figure.

Vaggie takes you upstairs, run you a bath and just watched you softly. Guilt in her eyes for not being a good parent to you and just follow you to make sure you were okay.

The whole night, she stayed close to you. Not even dropping her guard when it comes to you. You are too precious to go through this. She just hopes you can recover.

She’s not letting you out of her sight ever again. Hell she might teach you how to fight , but might go overprotective on you and keep you in the hotel until she and you were sure to go outside again.

CHARLIE

It was during a trust exercise with one of the new residents…

It was a trust fall activity as Charlie shows the residents how it goes. You say what you have in your mind and do the trust fall. After Charlie does it with vaggie. It was your turn and the sinner’s.

The sinner looked calm and you were anxious as you never done the trust fall game. Even in the human world.

As you stood on the stand talking to every member of this exercise and Charlie. She gives you a thumbs up which made you smile and gain confidence in talking. You fell backwards into the sinner’s hold as they caught you.

But they didn’t let you go. You tried to tell them but they didn’t let go still. You felt their hand travel around you and gr0pe your lower and waist. Your eyes widen as you try to move away from the bastard.

Tears were in your eyes as you hyperventilate at how you feel their touch. It burns, it feels like lit burns. Charlie notices what is going on. She gets up and pulls the bastard from you. She pushes you behind her as she looks behind her to see if you were okay. Whilst she does that, she glares heavily at the sinner.

“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN TOUCH THEM LIKE THAT?!” Charlie yells as her demon form was slipping out of anger seeing you run towards her. Hell was going loose as the sinner tried to back away from the raging aura Charlie was releasing.

Before Charlie can send hell fire at the bastard who dares to gr0pe you, you grabbed her arm. You know she isn’t really the type to kill someone and might regret it. So while you grabbed her arm, she calmed down and stared at you. Her yellow pupils going back to red as she glares at the sinner.

“Your stay isn’t welcome here..” Charlie says lastly as alastor takes the sinner away, probably to kill them and eat em.

Charlie takes you up stairs as you grip onto her arm. Her gaze on you soften with protectiveness and worry. She can’t believe that happened to you.

She checks on you everyday and has to mane sure you are with a resident before leaving the hotel. She feels guilty knowing she wasn’t there to protect you. Charlie must definitely hands razzle and dazzle to you if you are going out or going to sleep.

HUSK

A drunk resident had walked into your room as you were busy doing art work.

It was a night that you were relaxing in your room just drawing. You always had a passion to draw, maybe even to be an artist.

Your father figure was down stairs tending the bar. Husk was giving drinks to a resident, husk could tell that the drunk bastard has enough. He told the bum to go upstairs as he had enough beers.

Husk watches the person go upstairs, stumbling and staggering. The cat demon rolls his eyes as he hears a door close, assuming the sinner went to their designated room.

You were so busy listening to music you didn’t notice someone enter your room. As you put down your pencil, going for a crayon. You noticed a resident you would see at the bar. Your eyes widen smelling the strong alcohol from their body as they walked closely to you.

A curling scream came from your room making husk immediately drop the glass he was cleaning. He rushes upstairs to see the problem and why you screamed. He sees you being pinned down by the sinner he was tending to earlier.

“GET THE FUCK OF THEM!” Husk yells, eyes filled of anger. All he saw was red as he pulls the bastard off you and starts to beat the person up repeatedly. Their face was bloodied as heavy breathing came out of their face. You stopped husk as you had already been traumatized. Husk stops, breathing heavy before he kicks the bastard all the way down stairs.

You sometimes still relive through that moment as husk stays beside your bed. Husk would have to calm your down from your panic attacks from that night as you lash out at your own “father”

“Kid. Kid! Calm down…it’s okay. I’m here for you..fuck. I’m here for you.” Husk says calmingly while you try to get out of his hold. Still in panic mode. He had to hold you tightly for you to understand that you were now safe.

Hot tears fall to your cheek as you sob painfully at what you just experienced. Your tears made husk’s heart break and shatter. He was just glad you were okay in your room for now.

He holds you to his chest as his fur called you down even more. You sniffled holding him tight as if he would disappear if you let him go.

He felt your heartbeat go slow as you fall asleep in his hold. He stays close to you the whole night as he promises that he will always protect you. You are like his own child since you came to the is shit hole.

He lets you stay by him in the bar as you fall asleep. He grumbles a lot remembering that night as he almost broke a glass in his hand. You are only a kid…

ANGEL DUST

You were sent to find angel dust, only to see him in a bar drunk. So what did you do? Try and drag him out only to drag into trouble

You went into the bar to see Angel drunk, he was also talking to some demons who smirked at his drunken state.

You scoffed going over to grab Angel dust. As you went to grab him, one of the demons made you sit on his lap as if you were ready to meet Santa Claus. But you weren’t as you headbutt the demon and grab Angel dust.

The rest of the demons pull out knives and gun. Your eyes widen as you rushed pout the bar door, sensing the demons on your tail.

You throw a beer bottle at one of the members, the shards went in their eyes. Even if it was a small trick, the screams distracted those asshole as you make a run for the hotel.

You gently laid angel dust in his bed as his eyes tears up, realizing the situation and what could’ve happened if you didn’t take advice from Vaggie about combat.

“Shit…I’m sorry for getting you in this shit.” Angel dust says as he looks away with a drunk shamed look. You sighed, you’re just a kid looking after a drunk adult.

Angel sobered up a bit after you left him in his room. His memory fuzzy, but it was clear that you were uncomfortable with those damn demons that were eyeing you. Even if you got pulled into someone’s lap, that made him disgusted.

He promised you when you first came here that he would protect you. You was like a little sibling to him. He couldn’t believe how he was a drunk asshole who couldn’t even protect someone he cared about most.

Angel was actually sober for months after that encounter. Worried you would run into those demons he was with that night. He would also make you more like force you to watch fat nuggets while he is at work.

He would probably make a deal with Valentino or probably mostly alastor to make sure you were safe since that day.

SIR PENTIOUS

You were trying to find Frank, one of the egg boiz in the pride ring only to run into trouble.

You found Frank being ganged by some sinner who looked from the modern era you are from. You looked around for something, and you found an old computer. Mustering up your strength, you threw that bitch at their head.

Frank runs to you, holding your leg tightly. He was happy to see you were okay with him. You and the egg right here was like family as you smile at how cute he was happy to see you. Pentious would be happy to see Frank is in good condition

You left the alley way and start to chat with the egg boy by your side. It was have been obvious that you were being watched as a female sinner stared at you and your body. You felt the gaze and scoff making Frank raise a brow until seeing the sinner. The sinner seemed scary for poor Frank.

A whistle was made towards you, you flipped them off as you picked up the poor egg who was trembling. He obviously was trying to seem strong for you but it fails as he holds tightly to you. The sinner lady smirks as she follows you. You felt more uncomfortable with Frank as Frank was trying to warn you that she was gaining speed for you. But you already knew.

You made a circle with your hand, a portal opened and it closed immediately when you entered it. The portal sent you to the hotel in one piece with the adorable egg boy.

Your face was stoic with some disgust in your eyes. Eyebrows furrowed on your face as you entered Pentious’s room with Frank.

“Ssssweetheart? What happened? Whatssss wrong?” Pentious says as he notices your disgusted look. "Nothing nothing. Here you go penny." You said brushing off the feeling on your shoulders. But it still noticeable in your body language.

Before you could walk out of the room after putting Frank down. Frank just had to open his eggy mouth. The egg confessed that you were catcalled and almost followed to the hotel until you did your powers you have conquered in hell.

“Why that behavior is not acceptable to a minor!! That bunch of filth shall learn to never mess with my dear friend.” Pentious says as he forces out of his room so you can get a fresh start on a new days and this time he is making baby gates for his eggs so they will not bother you anymore

He was planning all night to see what he can use as a revenge for the cat calling you had experienced. Frank was also giving sir Pentious ideas also. It seemed they both agreed on one plan to have your get back.

He used his machine weapons to destroy that monster who catcalled. He was definitely making sure the laser was fast so he can come back to you and make you cookies so you could feel better. For the rest of the week and probably month.

CHERRI BOMB

You wanted to grab a snack out for Cherri and you. You left the hotel as she started to stay, as you left you didn’t notice of couple of shark demons. The leader smirked flicking a cigarette from his mouth eyeing you. They whistled at you making you scoff and keep walking.

The leader nods his head at you as the sharks move towards you snickering. You felt their presence, luckily you brought your…damnit you left your pepper spray.

The leader grabs you trying to pull you into an alley as your eyes widen. In a heap of panic you screamed for help, that only made it worst. Next thing you felt was a slap to your cheek as you sobbed.

The leader and the members chuckle grabbing your hair. With one final effort your screamed, but it wasn’t an ordinary scream. It was a sonic one that blew them away (a/n: sorry if it sounded corny😕) With that you left in a hurry inside of the hotel. Tears running down your eyes, you ran upstairs passing Cherri who looked shocked to see you run pat her like nothing.

“Sweetie?” Cherri says softly, her Australian accent showing her absolute worry for you as she followed you into your room. She sees your face in your pillow. Softly sobbing, scared as your adrenaline was still high. She sat next to you softly holding you in her arms hoping you would open up. And you did after calming down. 

After explaining what happened with a tired and broken voice, you couldn’t believe that this would happenu to you. You felt kinda yucky being touched but you felt safe with Cherri.

“What a fuckin' asshole. I bet his dick is small…don’t worry honey.” She says caressing your back as you sniffled before falling asleep.

In the aftermath, she blowed up their house in honor for you.🔥💗 no witnesses either.

HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT!

Remember that my requests are closed, so please if you are new to my blog check out my other work as I am currently working on other requests‼️ THAT ARE IN MY DRAFTS, not the ones people are asking me. So please don’t DM me and respect that please.

And mostly, please seek help if you are going through any abuse or assault related issues. Everyone needs to speak up in their own experiences. ❤️