#or deviate from the pattern in any way

[jewishbarbies]

my mom has been very vocal about how much she doesn't like that i'm a horror fan for several years, and now she laughs when i mention anything about the Barbie movie because she "can't believe i like Barbie" since it's so different, like, if she only knew what i post about on the internet. oh boy.

[gumify]

20/20 feat. toji fushiguro ❝ BOYFRIEND!TOJI NEEDS GLASSES ?! ❞

now playing… blind by role model.

summary. after months of denying his deteriorating eyesight, your boyfriend finally lets you drag him to an optometrist appointment.

tags. boyfriend!toji x fem!reader, fluff, some suggestive parts, established relationship, toddler!megumi being the cutiepie that he is, boyfriend!toji being everything a man should be (hot, blind, and utterly whipped).

wc. 2.6k

note. I ❤️ NERDS

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤyou heard that right.

boyfriend!toji, who very clearly needs reading glasses, but would rather take his blurry ass eyesight to the grave before ever accepting it.

boyfriend!toji, who always — always — asks you to read the labels on his food for him to make sure he’s getting the right amount of protein in or whatever. (he claims the tiny letters make his head hurt, but you like to tease and blame it on his age. he never laughs.)

boyfriend!toji, who is never not squinting. it’s pretty easy to see why people think your partner’s so intimidating, considering the fact that his already daunting eyes are narrowed into slits 24/7. most people you encounter on a daily basis probably think he’s internally cursing them… not that he minds. even if he had 20/20 vision, he’d probably be glaring at them anyways.

you first notice it on a night you’re cuddled up and watching a movie with him. boyfriend!toji’s leaned into the corner of your L-shaped couch as you nestle your head against his broad, firm chest — lifting it momentarily to gawk at the devastatingly hot specimen of man currently tracing patterns down your spine with his calloused fingertips. his face is pretty much devoid of any emotion, as it usually is whenever he’s fully relaxed; but you notice his gaze deviate every once in a while from the television, his almond-shaped eyes crinkling at the corners as his jade irises go in and out of focus.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“turn the sound up, dove.” toji murmurs, too comfortable in his current position to even think about reaching for the remote. spotting the way your lips twist into a stubborn (but no less pretty, mind you) pout, he huffs. “... please.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“but ‘m too lazyyy.” you whine.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“so am iii.” he replies, kicking up the pitch of his normally husky voice to playfully match that of your protest.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“hmpf. aren’t you the man, anyways?” you counter, poking him in his pecs to emphasise your point. “all the labourful work’s on you, babe. ‘m literally just a girl.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“thought y’said we should abolish gender roles.” he drawls.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“… not this one.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“that doesn’t sound very fair.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“tojiii!” you roll your eyes, “we don’t even need to turn the volume up — jus’ read the subtitles!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“ya’ mean the size five ass writing at the bottom of the screen?” he scoffs, “i don’t have x-ray vision, dove.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“x-ray vision wouldn’t even—” you stop yourself short, choosing to save yourself the middle school science lesson and shaking your head at your boyfriend’s antics instead. “the subtitles are perfectly visible. you just need glasses.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“wha—” he sits straight up, sounding almost offended at the accusation. “no i don’t.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“yes you do.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“no i don’t.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“yes you do.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“no i d—”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“it’s past midnight, toj’!” you tut, “last time we turned the volume up this late, we got a noise complaint, remem—”

toji cuts you off by squishing your cheeks together with his thumb and forefinger, forcing your lips into an exaggerated pucker and planting an equally dramatic mwaaah against them with his own.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“do you remember why we had to turn it up in the first place, hm?” he teases, giving you another softer peck before releasing you from his grip. “don’t think it was the movie they were complainin’ about, dove.”

ugh. he always knows how to shut you up.

you make it your life’s mission for the next week to make boyfriend!toji realise just how blind he really is. and you don’t have to do much, seeing as he only further proves your point himself.

for example, boyfriend!toji asks you how many boxes of strawberries you’d like him to pick up at the grocery store one day. too immersed in your morning reading to give him a proper reply, you hold up three fingers from across the room. he comes home with five.

boyfriend!toji misreads a sign on the highway later that weekend — which leads to him taking a wrong exit, and the two of you showing up to your fancy dinner reservation half an hour late. you end up spending date night eating mcdonald’s in the backseat of his volkswagen instead. (greeeat.)

boyfriend!toji damn near kills one of megumi’s friends who’s over for a playdate the following week. the little boy’s mother had talked his ear off at the front door about her son’s plethora of life-threatening allergies — even given him a list she’d taken upon herself to print out beforehand — and he still managed to miss the ‘MAY CONTAIN NUTS’ warning plastered on the chocolate bar in bold red lettering. if you hadn’t come to the rescue, practically diving headfirst into the living room and snatching the confectionary from the child’s grip, you imagine his mother would most definitely have the both of your heads on a platter by now. (phew.)

so boyfriend!toji finally gives in, letting you drag him along to one of your optometrist appointments for a check-up.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“this is dumb.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“just read as many letters as you can from the screen, mr. fushiguro.”

“… what is this, pre-school?”

“toji.”

the man slumps back against the optometrist’s padded chair at the sound of your voice, folding his arms across his chest and giving you a silent little hmpf before doing as he’s told.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“a, f, g, k… e, t, o, d, z… p, m, j, f, l — this is so stupid — n, r, s.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“good. now onto the next level.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“uhhh…” you watch your boyfriend’s everpresent confidence begin to falter at this stage, brows furrowing as he squints against the darkness of the small room. “m… f… c? uhhh, no — that’s an o. wait! actually — a d.”

you stifle a giggle at the scene unfolding before you, and he shoots you a warning glare.

“keep going, mr. fushiguro.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“that’s a… k… then a z…” you swear he’s just making up letters at this point, “and— the fuck, is that a hexagon?!”

with the click of a button, your optometrist fishes out a sheet of paper and slaps it down on the table next to him.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“your prescription will be ready soon.”

boyfriend!toji, who picks up his new glasses the following week — a standard rectangular pair with black frames that you helped him choose.

boyfriend!toji, who quite literally tells you to wait outside as he tries them on for the first time in your shared bedroom, locking the door behind him as if he were going into some sort of top secret mission.

boyfriend!toji, who refuses to come out for the next ten minutes.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“toji, this is ridiculous.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“i look like a fuckin’ incel!”

you give the doorknob another jiggle; yet, still, he doesn’t budge.

“unlock the damn door, fushiguro!” you huff, “i need to get ready for bed!”

a short pause.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“… fine.” you hear your boyfriend murmur. followed by the sound of his footsteps treading closer to the door, the knob turning slowly before he adds, “promise y’er not gonna laugh.”

you roll your eyes, “sure.”

and then the door peels open to reveal… well, what might just be your newest obsession.

the stark black frames do nothing to mask the stubborn blush tinting toji’s cheeks but goddamn, do they compliment the rest of his features well.

they’re not too chunky, nor too thin; just the perfect amount of thickness to emphasise the angles of that strong jawline, those prominent cheekbones, and the pair of brows almost always raised in sinister jest. his eyes also look darker, sharper — if that’s even possible — flecks of emerald in his irises brought to life by the viridescent sheen of the lens.

fuck, your boyfriend’s so hot.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“ya’ think so?”

you blink a couple times, too distracted by the man’s new look to realise you had voiced that last thought fact aloud. but if the way his subtle frown morphs into a shit-eating smirk is anything to go by, he’s most definitely caught on to the effect it has on you.

and oh, does he love it.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“cat got your tongue, dove?” toji hums, the hellish glint in his eyes magnified by the lenses. “c’mooon, say something. y’er lookin’ at me like i’m a piece of damn meat.”

it’s true.

you should be ashamed of the way you’re blatantly staring at him as if you’re a hormonal middle schooler catching a glimpse of the opposite gender for the first time — but you can’t find it in yourself to care. not when your man looks this fine. and certainly not when it’s already taking everything in you to keep your jaw from dropping onto the ground and drooling all over the place.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“still nothin’?” toji pouts mockingly. “aw, y’er breakin’ my heart here. don’t tell me my girl doesn’t want me anymore?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“shut up, toj’.”

he pushes the glasses further up the bridge of his nose. a statement.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“or you must reaaally like ‘em, huh? got ya’ all speechless and i didn’t even do anything. but i bet you’d just looove to—”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“toji.”

he raises a brow. a challenge.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“bed. now.” you blurt out, much to the protest — or could it be encouragement? — of your own deafening pulse. you bite your lip before adding, “… n’ keep the glasses on.”

again, toji smirks. that goddamn smirk.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“yes, ma’am.”

truth be told, neither you nor boyfriend!toji could have anticipated the effects of a pair of measly glasses. (five rounds, then another two in the shower, actually.) but one thing’s for certain — now, he wears them around with a newfound pride.

the first time boyfriend!toji comes home from a particularly challenging job not only battered and bruised, but battered and bruised in his equally damaged glasses, your eyeballs almost pop out of their fuckin’ sockets. he stands in the doorway with his chest heaving; one of the lenses of his glasses cracked; slashes of crimson adorning his brow, cheek, and even that signature scar decorating his now-bloody lips. you have no idea whether to feel concerned, or truly deplorable amounts of turned on — probably a little bit of both. and that you most definitely are.

when boyfriend!toji lets you pick out his outfit for dinner at your parents’ house, you’re practically bouncing off the walls in excitement. you land on a safe option — a creamy knit sweater that hugs his muscular build oh-so deliciously, paired with some black slacks and, of course, his glasses. he looks so… sophisticated like this, you think. so handsome. you can barely keep your eyes off him for more than two seconds as he helps your father clear the table and converses with your mother over a glass of merlot.

and don’t even get you started on megumi’s recently developed habit of climbing atop boyfriend!toji’s lap to toy with the frames in his lil’ hands. the sight alone is enough to make you melt — every. single. time. and even more so when the kid decides to steal the glasses off of his father to wonkily place them on himself, giving you a gap-toothed grin across the room as you feel your heart swell at the uncanny resemblance.

see, these are only some of the very many reasons you happen to love boyfriend!toji’s new at-home look… though for him, it all comes down to one thing.

boyfriend!toji comes to this epiphany a couple of weeks after his first trip to the optometrist. megumi’s sleeping over at a friend’s place, so you and him decided to make the most out of the free night. namely, by hitting a swanky new speakeasy in town and letting loose for once in a blue moon.

alas, boyfriend!toji’s not the drinker he used to be — which means you’re nursing the man back home after no more than three and a half whiskey highballs at the ripe ol' time of 10pm.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“fuuuck, my head’s spinnin’.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“ya’ big baby.” you tease, earning a distasted scowl from your boyfriend. “okay, okay - where are your glasses? ‘s not helping that you can’t see straight enough sober.”

toji barely manages an “mph.” in reply, murmuring something that vaguely sounds like “— bedroom… top drawer…” before slumping against the couch like a giant ragdoll.

by the time you return with his glasses in hand, he’s still letting out tipsy grumbles into the empty air. drama queen, you think, walking up ‘til you’re right in front of him and bending down to meet him at eye-level from his position on the couch to slide them into place yourself.

your heart does the usual thing it does whenever you see toji in his glasses — or toji at all, for that matter — and the way he’s looking at you through his thick lashes and heavy-lidded gaze isn’t helping.

immediately, something clicks.

toji’s eyes widen enough behind the lenses for you to see his pupils dilate, and before you know it, he’s got your face cradled in his hands.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“toj’—”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“my god, woman…”

he’s nothing short of mystified. your brows knit in confusion at his sudden change in demeanour, but he’s too lost in his own mind — in you — to offer any sort of explanation.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“have you always been this pretty?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“w— what?”

you’re unable to suppress the giggle forming in your chest at toji’s words, but he’s being dead serious. you cock your head to the side ever so slightly and he gifts you with a light peck on the corner of your lips.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“i mean it.” he says so sincerely it almost makes you wonder what the fuck has gotten into him. (most probably the highballs, but you digress.)

he doesn’t even look tipsy anymore. well, not on the alcohol, at least. he pushes his glasses to the bridge of his nose, the stare framed oh-so prettily behind them now beyond blown out. his hands are so big yet so gentle; able to ghost the slopes of your facial features with his thumbs whilst still keeping your face still and focussed on him at the same time.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“y’make me feel so lucky, dove…”

you start to shy away under the intensity of it all, but toji doesn’t let up. his eyes are everywhere — it’s as if he’s searching for something; or, better yet, memorising it.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen…”

it’s been too long since he’s gotten a chance to look at you; really look at you — the subtle beauty marks that sprinkle your skin, the lines decorating the outer corners of your pretty eyes and lips that serve as a testament of all the times he’s made you smile, and all the other tiny details that make you… well, you — in all of your 20/20 glory.

it always feels like the first time.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“i love you s’much, my beautiful girl.” he kisses the words into your skin, each one as reverent as the last. “never forget it.”

boyfriend!toji, who makes sure to get his eyes checked at least twice a year now — because there’s no chance in hell he’s letting himself miss out on any of this again. ㅤ

© GUMIFY 2024 do not steal, replicate, or modify my work.

[ectologia]

♱ ˖ ࣪࿐ 𝐿𝒜𝒯𝒞𝐻 ؛ 𝓀𝒶𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓀𝒾 𝒷𝒶𝓀𝓊𝑔𝑜𝓊

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 ؛ dubcon ﾉ noncon ﾉ bullying ﾉ pussy wedgie ﾉ wedgie ﾉ fondling ﾉ pussy inspecting ﾉ public indecency ﾉ humiliation ﾉ profanity

Bully Bakugou and how poorly he treats everyone around him.

He’ll shoulder barge and shove his way through the halls in between periods, curling his lip into a snarl if anyone dares address him as he stamps on their toes. He’ll wring his bag straps in between his sweaty palms, intimidating on lookers when they see tendrils of smoke billowing from the charred material, evidence of his brewing temper. The significantly weaker students fall prey to his avarice, cowering in fear as he picks them up from their ankles and shakes them like fish in a bag, chuckling with a “thought ‘cha said you didn’t have any on ya’?” as dimes of silver and bronze bounce out of their pockets and onto the floor. He doesn’t need their lunch money, he’s got plenty of cash, but he just can’t help himself from laughing when he drops the poor things right on their heads, brushing his hands clean of them as they cry out when their skulls meet the concrete with a cack.

In class, he’s no better. Don’t get him wrong, he’s not stupid by any means. In fact, he’s top of the class in most of his lessons, academically at least. But as always with Bakugou, when things get too easy, he gets bored. And when he gets bored, he gets destructive. Spit balls become scrunched up paper, then pencils, then mechanical pens, then compasses. It’s only until he inevitably gets scolded for almost impaling somebody from behind does he blow up. Swearing isn’t uncommon, along with the snark and name calling. On most occasions he’ll exit with a dramatic push of his chair, chucking it onto the floor before slamming the door shut, storming out with a murmured “fuckin’ old cunt” before flinging his bag against the lockers with a resounding clang, while he waits to be escorted to withdrawal.

Excluding his tight knit group of close friends, most tend to steer clear of the abrasive blonde in fear of losing their heads.

Apart from you, of course

He finds you to be a funny little thing. Like a mouse up against a bear when you turn to yell at him, cussing him out in front of everyone when he smushes you up against the wall during transition. The first time, he was only stunned. Shocked, to say the least. That one, somebody had actually dared stand up to him. And two, that that somebody happened to be a teensy little pipsqueak in a skirt and knee high socks.

He’s intrigued by you from the get go, wanting to know who you are, where you’re from, why he’s never seen you before. And soon enough, that interest begins to twist into something a little more than dangerous. Passionate, if you will.

A pattern arises, a schedule that he rarely deviates from. At break, he’ll elbow you into the lockers with a snide remark about your appearance. Lunch, he’ll barge his way into the food line, conveniently just a place ahead of you, always turning with a harsh side-eye when he picks up on your croons and complaints. After school, you’d write as the worst. An inconvenience that his route is not too different from yours. The jeers and shouts always come, along with the trash and rocks getting kicked up at your knees. And sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly devilish .. He’ll touch you.

He’ll touch you in all those harsh ways, grab your shoulder, ball the hem of your skirt in his greasy fists before hooking a thick, beefy bicep around your neck as you splutter. Whispering with hot, smoke ridden breaths into your ear as you scratch at the expensive watch clasped around his tanned wrist.

“Hey, squirt.”

“What do you want now, Bakugou? I need to go home.” You push at his arm, your feet clashing beneath you as your soles slip and slide over his shoes, rolling your ankles with uneven footing.

The rickety brush of gravel fills the otherwise desolate drive, a sound you’ll forever associate with moments like these.

“Yeah, I know. I gotta’ talk to you ‘bout summin’ first though.” His chest puffs against your shoulders, the sharp scent of sandalwood cleansing your nostrils with it’s acidity.

“What?”

He spins you around, face to face and toe to toe, looking down on you despite the fact you’ve had him by the balls since day one. “Fuck was that look today?”

“What?” You sound like a broken record at this point, still with that same dumbfounded and foolish expression, the one where your brows curl and your mouth gapes. He tells you you look stupid like that, but god knows it’s the most adorable little face he’s ever seen.

“That bitchy little side-eye you gave me in math.”

“I didn’t side-eye you.” This time, it’s your turn to barge him. Shoving past with a grimace as you swing your bag onto your other shoulder, making haste — only to be swept back again.

“Oh yes you fuckin’ did.”

Your bag is torn off of your back, left swinging between his fingers.

“Hey, give it back!”

In a split second decision, you lunge at him. Like a panther, you pounce, scratching and clawing at the brawny arm that shields you from your belongings.

He drops it on the floor in favour of grabbing you by the hair, bending you over and bowing you down until your forehead meets the pavement, digging loose stones into your skin. You look like a dog baying for scraps, crumpled at his feet by the scruff of your neck. His calloused digits squeeze the delicate tendons in your neck, making you yelp out a squeal.

“Now, listen here you little shit.” He squats down over you, the baggy pouch of his crotch practically resting atop your head. “Next time I see you give me a filthy fuckin’ look like that, I’ll punch your fuckin’ lights out. Got it?”

His words are spat with venom and sharpened to a point, giving no room for disagreement.

“Mhm.”

You assume this is your cue to get up, poising yourself on your hands and knees — up until an odd, tightening sensation tears through your middle. You squawk, snapping your head up with wide eyes like a skittish rabbit as the plain of your panties thins into a skinny strip, sinking into the pudge of your pussy lips and wrapping around your clit. The stringy fabric digs all the way into your crack, kissing the entrance of your scrunched asshole and creaking as Katsuki’s fists rips it up past the small of your back.

“Bakugou!” You shriek, already with two hands flailing and swatting at his arm behind you

He only smirks, trapping you in the confines of your own underwear as he pinches the hem of your skirt up. “Well, wouldja’ look at that.” He gives a low, prolonged whistle at the sight of your plush mound twitching and quivering around the crotch of your panties. “I always wondered what kind of pussy lips you had. Turns out, you’ve got the cute kind.” He snorts when you wail, legs quivering around his wrist as he pulls on one of your labia. “Very pretty little cunt you got there, huh squirt?”

“Ow, ow, ow! Bakugou, stop!” You yip, hopping up and down to ease the burn as he tugs on the waistband of your pants clutched in his fist, stringing you along like a puppet as the searing cotton rubs through the valley of your quim, pushing back and forth over your throbbing hole and clitty. He watches in awe, his mouth agape as he cocks his head like a curious child playing with a toy train, invigorated by the way your puffy slit contorts and flares.

After growing bored, he relents, letting the stretched elastic snap back against your hips.

“Remember what I said, yeah?”

You don’t hear him, to concerned with plucking the drenched piece of distorted fabric out of your nether regions.

“Hey.” He smacks the back of your head. “Remember what I fuckin’ said, yeah?“

“Ouch, yes.” You snap, soothing where his rendition of a “tap” nearly left a dent in your skull, leaning to pick your now scuffed backpack up off the ground.

“Good.” He checks his phone with a sigh, then his watch, before sauntering past. Shoulder barging you once again as though nothing had ever happened. “See you ‘round, bitch face.”

“Prick.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing..”

[wanderingblindly]

Lestappen + 9 or Landoscar + 6 maybe?❤️

oops! it's established relationship landoscar after hungary! which isn't I ever wanted to touch! prompts here :)

Upon Deaf Ears

"I just need a second," Lando mumbles, pushing past Oscar in the paddock – their shoulders clip; they ricochet. He keeps walking before he can hear Oscar's response, eyes focused intently at the ground. If he blinks, if he so much as deviates away from his path, he'll lose it. And he can't, not in public.

The media doesn't take kindly to his tears.

He slides between the hospitality doors before they open all the way; a pair of footsteps echo as he bolts towards sanctuary.

"Seriously, give me a minute," He tosses over his shoulder, quickly opening his driver room door and stepping in.

"We're not doing this," Oscar finally speaks, grabbing the edge of the door as Lando tries to close it – tries to separate them. They lock eyes, both hands on the door, both trying harder than they'd like to admit to resist the other's force. It's starting to bubble up in him, that sticky-hot anger that overflows from his cracks, boiling hotter when Oscar looks at him like it's a choice.

"Get out." Lando says bluntly, pressing harder against the door.

"No," Oscar takes a step forward, almost daring Lando to let go and jump away. He doesn't, he stands his ground – because isn't that the crux of the matter here? That he's apparently not allowed to do that anymore?

"Are you fucking deaf?" He bites, vision and voice starting to waver unconvincingly. And that just makes it worse, hands shaking with some horrible cocktail of adrenaline, rage, and embarrassment. "Give me a second and we do whatever you want, ok?"

He grinds his teeth, clinging to some hope that it'll stop his lip from quivering.

But Oscar doesn't move, still looking at him like he doesn't understand. What the fuck isn't there to get? Lando had rolled over, he'd bit the bullet and played the good teammate role. Actually, he hadn't tasted it – he'd felt it, he'd felt the fucking bullet go right between his eyes like a horse put down.

And Oscar doesn't fucking get it.

"We can talk about –"

"We can talk later." It's punctuated with a harsh sniff, Lando angrily rubbing his traitorous eyes with his free hand.

Oscar presses forward, shoving through the doorway and hitting his shoulder against Lando's – returning the favor that Lando didn't ask for. Incensed, Lando slams the door.

"Can't you just do what I fucking asked –"

"Thought we weren't following orders today?" Oscar raises a brow, and Lando can't help but feel like he thinks his endless composure makes him a better... racer? Person? His hands vibrate when he buries his face in them, pulling in a desperate, snotty breath through his nose.

"That's low." He exhales, lifting his head. His vision is swimming. "I did what they asked, I did it for you, actually."

"But –"

"And now you're here, when I asked you to fuck off, and you're here for yourself. See a – a fuck, god – see a pattern?" Lando's hiccupping by the end, fighting his lungs to spit the words at him.

"I'm not here for me, Lando." Oscar's voice is sharp, like acid on Lando's red-hot nerves.

"Then leave." He almost yells it, pointing at the door with a shaking hand, a palm shining with tears. "Then leave until I'm ready."

Oscar pulls in a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed. "I came to say I'm not sorry."

"Fuck you," Lando rips off his hat before Oscar can finish, chucking it at him with any strength he can muster. "I'm not sorry that no one gives a fuck about your –"

"I'm not sorry for winning," Oscar continues, taking a step closer. "But I'm sorry it had to hurt you. You know I never wanted to."

Lando stares as he moves another half-step nearer, closing the distance between them. Rooted by his rage, as if it's dug itself into the floor for lack of anywhere else to go, Lando lets him. He lets him walk closer, lets his nose touch his, lets him press a gentle kiss to Lando's cheek.

He lets Oscar taste his overflowing rage, lets him pull away with tear-slicked lips to match Lando's tear slicked palm – almost as if he slapped him across the mouth with it.

"If you didn't want to," He grinds out, hands balled into fists. "Then you'd get out."

Oscar nods, pressing one more kiss to another tear. "I will."

"And you won't come to my hotel room tonight."

"Ok."

"And you won't talk to me until I'm ready."

"I know."

Lando pulls in a deep breath, willing himself to push through it, to be better than Oscar. "So congratulations." It burns. "There, I said it. Now leave."

[sinfulsalutations]

What do you think each of your favorite clones’ guilty pleasure is? SFW and NSFW? 🤣

𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕥𝕪 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕩 + 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕦𝕡 + 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕤𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕣 + 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕙 + 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕝𝕗𝕗𝕖

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ʀᴇx, ᴛᴜᴘ, ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱʜᴀɪʀ, ᴛᴇᴄʜ, ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ, ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇx

⋆ ★ ᴏʜ, ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄʟᴏɴᴇꜱ? ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ʀɪᴅɪᴄᴜʟᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘɪᴄᴋ… ᴀʟʀɪɢʜᴛ, ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ɪ’ʟʟ ɢᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʀᴇx, ᴛᴜᴘ, ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱʜᴀɪʀ, ᴛᴇᴄʜ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ!

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

Rex

SFW: Likes to be bathed or taken care of in the bath. While it doesn’t happen often, he loves it when you sit on his lap and scrub off the dirt on his skin, slowly massage soap onto his scalp and soothe him. Rex is not used to being taken care of or sitting back and just allowing things to happen without at least a little control, so it’s hard for him personally to come to terms with just how much he likes it, as well as even indulge himself too much when he gets the chance too.

NSFW: He wanted to record you two going at it to watch while he’s away for some time. You’d already sent him photos of yourself, domestic videos of you doing simple tasks, but none very vulgar. Now that he does have that recording, he watches it so damn much. One of his favorite ways to wind down after a hard day. Not that he’ll really admit it…

Tup

SFW: This boy LOVES self-care days. If he has the chance, he’ll beg to do one. Paint each other's nails, wear face masks, braid hair in intricate patterns, moisturize, he lives for it. It's just an excellent way of doing the little things to keep his spirits up, expressing his own self-worth, and showing how much you’re worth it. As well as just having some sweet bonding time with his cyare.

NSFW: Loves receiving a lot. He doesn't really ask for it necessarily, and don't get me wrong, making you buck into his face and gasp from all the pleasure he's giving you is still one of his favorite things to do. He just also really enjoys sitting back and watching the person he loves on their knees, doing their utmost to please him and make him feel good. Also, Maker have you perfected it. The moment he sees you slowly sink down he's already anticipating the filthy noises that will leave his mouth.

Crosshair

SFW: MASSIVE sweet tooth. It's his guilty pleasure for a few reasons. Firstly, well, it's unhealthy of course. They also don't get those kinds of pleasures or indulgences as a soldier. But if he gets a chance? He's gonna munch on some sour candy like a child on Halloween. It's a pretty interesting, delightful sight.

NSFW: Crosshair really, really likes it when you ride him. You rarely do it, mostly because he just can't give up that much control to you, albeit anyone, but on the rare occasions he allows it, Maker he comes so fast. You look so damn sexy on top of him, commanding his movements and taking pleasure for yourself equally without his say being a large contributor. For once, he's not in control, he's in your hands and so vulnerable and desperate... it rubs the strangest parts of his mind.

Tech

SFW: This feels a little obvious, but sleeping late. Tech knows it's bad for him, but he just gets so much work done! His brothers aren't up distracting or pestering him, he can be left to his own devices to stray from the task at hand and deviate to another interest of his own volition, it's great! ...Yeah, you have to drag him to bed all the time.

NSFW: 👏Tie👏him👏up! Tech's hands are the most dexterous part of him and give him so much control over things- including you. And if you tie him up and render him subject to whatever you want to do, he becomes a whimpering mess. He'll suddenly be begging for any salvation, bucking his hips up and attempting to grind against you `cause you're just that damn sexy to him.

Wolffe

SFW: Obsessed with holo dramas. Once you caught him screaming at the holo because apparently, the leading lady had made an unwise decision between the two men she was in a love triangle with, and when you asked him about it he immediately denied it. You didn't catch him watching it after that but saw him discreetly trying to find times when he thought you were asleep or working. So then you pretended that you showed interest in the drama to make him feel less bad about watching it. So now you always catch up on the latest episodes when he returns from a dispatch.

NSFW: Enjoys it when you make sorts of animalistic noises in bed. He hasn't expressed it directly, but you're beginning to catch on. He likes to sprinkle on some extra praise if you yelp or howl like a hurt puppy dog, give him those sickly eyes and whimper. And he always comes a little too hard, even letting a few growls rupturing in his stomach out to bless your ears. So in conclusion Wolffe is a furry

a/n: definitely gonna do more of these with other characters, this was really fun! if you guys have any other characters you'd like to see with these headcanons, let me know :) ~ @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @thebahdbitch @secondaryrealm

[cmdrfupa]

Better Now

Nanami x Reader

Considering your husband's predictable habits, any deviation from the norm would raise some eyebrows.

So, being caught off guard is understandable as you spot Nanami standing in the hallway waiting to take his staff yearbook photo. Instead of his typical tan and blue outfit, he dawned a sharp black suit, which made an impression. 

"Christ." 

He wore his green-tinted glasses for the first time in a while, the black patch usually covering his eye now being held between his forefingers. The idle way he toyed with the string gave you your answer before even speaking up.

"You look very handsome, Nanami." the sound of your heels approaching brought him out of his head.

"Thank you, Mrs. Nanami." Flat. Flatter than usual. He wrapped the strings up, placing the patch in the inside pocket of his suit. "Did you get your first years settled? I heard talk of outfit offenders."

"It was the lack of clothes." you stood directly in front of Kento, considering straightening his tie. "2 boys tried taking their pictures shirtless, and one young lady snuck a Kaneki eye patch mask on last minute."

"Did you scold her?"

"Was just a mask. And it was Zenin, anyway. Her wanting to cover her face was understandable." 

Nanami huffed a laugh out, watching your hands work to fix his tie.

"Thank you."

You kissed his lips before stepping back, and your hand settled over his cheeks. It took a while, but Kento no longer flinched as you touched him.

His visible burn scars were about 90% healed. Thanks to compressive masks made via 3D printing, Kento could hide the facial wound while healing for the first eight months. 

The scars had matured with fine indentions and webbed patterns across his face. While they weren't incredibly fibrous or thick, they were noticeable. And he wasn't a vain man, but Kento was thankful they weren't a complete 'monstrosity' as this was the first time he'd be showing his entire face to the outside world since the incident; there was no concealing himself.

The light contact of your palm brought his stress levels down as always.

"I know you smelt the alcohol. It was a few sips before I got here."

"I know."

"It was with Ieiri."

"I know."

He took his glasses off, slipping them into his breast pocket.

"She called you."

Fiddling in your purse, you fished out the dark metal case. 

"Just to let me know you were on campus already and that you wanted your prosthetic."

The warmth of his fingers danced across your wrist as he took the case from your hand. "Thank you, love of my life."

"Anytime." His lips joined yours again like magnets as he brought you closer. "Are you gonna be okay if I go?"

A few reasons came to mind why he'd never be okay when you weren't next to him. But if Kento wanted to get his money's worth therapy-wise and get entirely into solo exposure therapy, he could get through this with a few camera clicks and a meeting without you. 

"Go ahead. I'll grab dinner on the way home once I finish here."

With a soft smile, you squeezed his arm before kissing his cheek. "See you at home."

    The evening wore on, and you hadn't heard from Kento. 

It's not entirely unusual, you thought. But it's almost 10 p.m., and surely his meeting wasn't that long. "I'll just call Shoko."

Six rings, no answer.

Gojo. Same thing.

"I'd hate to bother Itadori, but maybe he knows." As you dialed, a call from Ino popped up.

"Hello? Takuma?"

  "Sorry to call so late in the evening, Mrs. Nanami. But Gojo told me to give you a call."

That sick feeling waded through your thoughts. "What's wrong? Where are you?"

"Sorry. I should've started that better. Nanami is okay, and everything is okay."

"Has Nanami been drinking?"

"No, I promise. We left our meeting, and he just wanted to drive, so Gojo and I followed him until we lost him." The sound of Gojo talking about pineapple-flavored sorbet leaked into the speaker from the background.

  " Gojo guessed, and now we're at the Shibuya station. At the mart across from it."

Holding the phone, Ino mumbled something to someone nearby before talking to the receiver again. "Nanami says he'll be home soon and that he is sorry for worrying you and being forced to talk to me like I'm his handler."

"You just saved me from a heart attack, so no need for an apology in any way. Thank you.”

"Have a good night, Mrs. Nanami."

"Be Safe, Ino. Good night."

  When you and Kento went couch shopping, you were adamant about plush, oversized cushions. "Think about movie nights. Napping on our days off. OH! Or parallel play!" You tried upselling the cloud couch, as the cheery salesman said, was an absolute steal.

Always practical and only buying out of necessity, Kento agreed to the cloud couch as long as it made you happy and you kept the cushions plush.

Most late nights, like this one, were spent on said couch. Kentos' first five weeks out of the hospital were spent camping in the living room. Listening to his half-baked ideas while he fought sleep to avoid the impending traumatic night terrors of the worst day of his life.

  "Honey?" He wriggled his feet out of his shoes and entered the living room. The soft glow from reruns of Jeopardy cast a gentle light across the walls as you slept soundly.

"Darling. I'm home." smooth knuckles ran the length of your arm.

Sleep in your eyes as you bat your lashes, trying to focus. "Ken, what time is it." fatigue coated your voice.

"It's late; I'm sorry." With your eyes still not entirely focused, you could make out Kento taking his button-down off and lying next to you on the chaise section of the sofa. He rested his head near your chest, holding you like a kite on a windy spring afternoon.

Wrapping your arms around him as best you could, you rubbed his back. Silent except for Alex Trebek giving Pamela her 'Potpourri, it could be anything!' question for 600. Nothing was said, but everything was understood in the quietude.

  "I saw Yu that night. During the accident."

Your hold tensed, bringing Kento closer until it was impossible.

"It was like a figment of him. He was fading from me.." shakiness saturated his usual warm tone.

"Ken."

"Like he was there warding off death. I wasn't supposed to die, and Haibara ensured it."

A sniffle brought your face closer to his, remaining mute during the spewing emotions.

"So much time has passed that I am forgetting his face, and I have to live, slowly forgetting his youth. I can't. I- I don't want that."

Wiping the tears as they rushed Kento's cheeks, you kissed his forehead.

"Haibara is eternal. And we will keep his spirit and love alive in all that we do."

The emotions were discernible, and Kento leaned into them wholly. Moments passed before he huffed and took a deep breath attempting to shake whatever emotions hung back.

"Finding a way to celebrate him would be good. Maybe light candles, and I'll dig out those high school photos."

"An altar? We can do that. We can grab some flowers and candles tomorrow to properly memorialize him."

The TV's fluorescent lighting flicked off with the timer, allowing the silver sheen from the moon to blanket your joined bodies.

"Thank you. For life. For your love."

"You have me and my love forever, Ken."

  Kento rested his head on your chest, contentment flooding his mind, closing his eyes as your warmth brought him to slumber's door.

Love you and thank you for reading 💕

[sutekooooo]

how did you learn to draw and colorize in such an impressive way? do you have any tips?

Thanks for your question, I'll use one of my new works as an example.

My way of drawing colored drawings is more like paint oil painting. I usually do not do fine line drawing, but only draw a line sketch. Still, before drawing the sketch, I will think about the theme of the drawing and the effect I want to achieve, because I will make lots of adjustments throughout the whole process, and the longer I work on it, the more I change my feeling of this pic, so the change of the tone of a drawing will be big sometimes. The one shown here is an example with a small adjustment.

After drawing the line sketch, I will first draw the proper color and use multiply layers to shape light and shadow. In this way, although the color draft can control the brightness, the color tends to be faint, so after this step, I usually add an adjustment layer to refine the whole color, and then add some subjective color to increase the richness of the color, and then begin to render

Halfway through the rendering, I felt that something was not right, because after rendering the colors deviated from that in the color sketch (I used too much red in the shadows) and I wanted the shadows to be more subdued green and yellow color, so I used an overlay layer in PS to correct the shadows a little bit.

After that, it's basically just continuing to render until I think it's finished (during the process, I will consider: shape, color, structure accuracy, light and shadow, pattern, and texture)

I hope this helps you understand my coloring process a bit.:)

[theconcealedweapon]

Imagine that everyone jumped through the expected hoops when interacting with police. They went out of their way to avoid any words or gestures that could in any way be twisted as threatening. They always kept their hands visible and explained every single movement they made before making it.

This wouldn't stop the police from murdering people. It would only embolden them. If everyone followed strict patterns, then the police would feel entitled to murdering anyone who slightly deviates from it.

Maybe someone reaches into their pocket and forgets to explain it this one time. Maybe someone has an involuntary twitch that the police officer panics in response to. Maybe someone is deaf and can't hear the instructions. Maybe the instructions are unclear and someone misinterprets.

[tricktster]

how long have you been getting burritoed... i love the thought of you guys being together for five years and you still fall for it every time

Slightly NSFW warning but the full backstory for the burritoing is honestly very sweet and i can take absolutely no credit for it being so.

so it has not been five years, it’s only been five months, but given that my tolerance for being in relationships can usually be measured in weeks, five months with me harboring every single desire to keep this going is saying something. but rest assured the burrito thing has always been a threat in this relationship. lemme explain.

see, i met my boyfriend the most romantic way a person can, in that i hopped on tinder one friday when I was bored and he was the most interesting person that night to ask me to grab a drink with him the following week. I agreed, with every expectation that this was going to be a one night stand situation. This was because I had already concluded I would probably sleep with him since he was hot and funny over tinder/text but also, more importantly, because I had decided to plunge back into the dating world after several years of being resolutely single by having what my roommate described as “a wanton winter,” which is a nicer way of saying that I was here to sleep around without any strings remotely attached. I had every intention of this being followed by a slutty spring, sexually-available summer, and perhaps even a fuckboi fall.

All this to say, I was not looking for an actual relationship when I agreed to “grab a drink” with the man who is now my boyfriend. In fact, even though he was categorically hunky all-round? I was by this point in my wanton winter not even optimistically hoping for a good time. I had recently re-discovered that hunky meant absolutely nothing, and was still haunted by memories of sleeping with an extremely attractive massage therapist who was not only terrible in bed but also read me a very bad poem that he’d written afterwards and started crying about the state of his life at one point and also his mom called like 11 times while he was over. Like, my expectations were subterranean.

Now given this background, i presumed that this guy would follow the established pattern set by every other guy i’d hooked up with during wanton winter; we’d go back to my place, fool around, he’d leave, and i’d get occasional “u up” texts from him for the next few weeks until one of us ghosted etc. so like it was a surprise - but certainly not an unpleasant one! - when he asked (a little nervously) post-hookup if he could stay the night. he didn’t want to impose, he explained, but he had a day shift the next morning and it was really late and his house was 24 minutes away and while he didn’t want to be presumptuous he’d thrown what he needed in a backpack just in case and also he wanted to cuddle and be big spoon.

well. this was a deviation. this possibly suggested more interest than just a one night stand.

ideologically i was opposed to the threat this posed to my no commitments wanton winter lifestyle but given that he was significantly cuter and funnier in person than he’d been online and also that he had just absolutely rocked my entire world for several hours(!!!) i was just like “yeah homie you are more than welcome to stay,” and decided against issuing my standard warning whenever anyone proposes sharing a bed with me that “I do not tolerate people attempting to cuddle me in my sleep well so don’t be hurt when you find me as far from you as physically possible tomorrow, and also you may be kicked in the process of me rolling away, and my toenails are inexplicably sharp so you may bleed.”

and then, you know, suddenly the alarm was going off, and he was extracting himself, unwounded, from the big spoon position that I had not felt the unconscious need to escape from all night, and I was just internally like “haha! i might be in trouble!”

that mighta done it on its own, honestly, the whole bit about him being the sole exception i have ever encountered to my instinctual need for space when i’m sleeping. but he was not done. he quietly got ready while i was mulling this development over in a state of half consciousness, and then? instead of slinking out into the barely-morning, that motherfucker very gently rearranged the bedclothes to actually cover me, gave me a kiss, said he’d text me when he got to work, and then the bastard tucked me in.

he then left me, the victim of the cutest goddamn nonsense that has ever happened after a tinder hookup, to process this unexpected turn of events.

I concluded that I was, in fact, in trouble.

so like… needless to say, that act of tucking me in was the death knell for my wanton winter, as well as my adversarial relationship with the concept of developing feelings. I am an extremely crotchety housecat that doesn’t like to be crowded who has unprecedentedly fallen incredibly hard for a wildly enthusiastic golden retriever, and our relationship is foundationally based upon this man’s desire to make me all snug and cozy before he leaves.

the burrito aspect was merely an afterthought. it’s all about the tuck-in babey.

[undercityrezident]

So, did anyone else notice during Memory 4 that the Dueling Peaks is a complete and single mountain?

So that means, at some point between when Zelda arrived and the present day, according to Shay at the Lakeside Stable (in Breath of the Wild), "...legends say that a dragon god split the mountain in half to forge a way through, and that's how how it went from one to two."

It's worth mentioning that he talked about this while also mentioning "the presence of the shadow of a large creature on the surface of Lake Floria," which largely connects this dialogue to Farosh, the dragon often seen diving into the waterfalls near the peak of Mount Floria (in Breath of the Wild). The fact all this information comes from the same source may be the game's way of telling us that Farosh was responsible for the state of the Dueling Peaks.

However, I have a hypothesis to offer (which contains intensive TotK story spoilers, hence the readmore):

The way the camera pans in the memory to show the Dueling Peaks (or peak, rather, in this era), feels somewhat purposeful to me. And knowing that Zelda becomes a dragon in order to help restore the Master Sword over the aeons, I can't help but wonder if she might've been the reason why it happens.

Not that I blame her of course. She's a newly minted dragon, likely bursting with emotion and pain she doesn't understand or know how to cope with as she's just lost her sense of self. She could've gone mad for a time, flying erratically and ploughing through a mountain in her time of grief before settling into her new draconic existence.

Does this disprove that Farosh, or any of the other three dragons could've been responsible?

No, it doesn't. But I propose the idea that the other three dragons have existed much longer than her. By the nature of their names, they're connected to the three goddesses, Nayru, Farore, and Din, and have likely been around since the world's origin (or very close to it). Further, the Zonai have many carvings and depictions of dragons, meaning that dragons existed during and likely prior to this era, given their longevity.

Why is this important? We can look to how the three main dragons behave: they have regular patterns of flight, likely formed out of habit or preference, and do not go out of their way to harm people or impact the landscape in any significant way. For the most part, they're high in the sky where little can reach them, save for a hero with a paraglider.

Grant you, their paths have changed since TotK debuted, but the landscape itself has changed, as has the state of the world in general. The depths are now readily accessible, and perhaps there's an obligation on their part to survey it or maintain order wherever they can venture.

But my main point is that the dragons, given time, tend to settle and keep to their own habits and paths. If the three dragons already existed long before Zelda transformed, it's unlikely one of the other three dragons would find reason to deviate from their normal behaviour and plough through a mountain to split it in two.

But the new Light Dragon hasn't settled yet. She's wracked with emotion, grief, and new power she doesn't know how to control. She could almost be considered a newborn in that sense, and what might a newborn with nearly god-like powers do?

Split a mountain in half because it was in her way...

Also, keep in mind the former Temple of Time where Zelda transformed is not all too distant from that once unified Dueling Peak. As well, Zelda's own draconic trailblazing hasn't been consistent either in the present. At the beginning of TotK, she's seen flying in circles near the Great Sky Island before she boldly plunges through the cloud layer to open up Hyrule to Link once he's finished his trials there. As far as dragons go, Zelda doesn't have the same temperament as the other three.

It's true that there could be another dragon, or being that approximates one, that is responsible for the splitting of the Dueling Peaks. Maybe it was a more nefarious dragon sharing heritage with the likes of Volvagia, Argorok, or some progenitor of the Gleeoks.

Still, I think that it would be interesting to believe that the once gentle Zelda's sacrifice may have had a bigger hand in shaping the future of Hyrule than only her dutiful task of revitalizing the Master Sword. It would further contrast the change between the woman she was and the dragon she became, and emphasize the tragic nature of what she had to do in order for us to finally defeat Ganondorf.

[selkienight60]

Lately, I've observed a recurring pattern across various fandoms that I'd like to address. It seems that both myself and others I have spoken with have been receiving comments from individuals who delve into great detail about their dislike for our stories. These comments tend to focus on perceived flaws or deviations from character portrayals. Unfortunately, these critiques rarely end on a positive note, and it can be quite frustrating. 

 As authors, we invest significant amounts of time and effort into crafting our stories. While I personally appreciate constructive criticism (although I understand that not everyone feels the same way!), what I've been encountering is different. It appears that some individuals express their dissatisfaction in a lacklustre manner, posing their dislike as half-hearted questions or providing lengthy suggestions on how the story should have unfolded. This is not an entirely new phenomenon, but recently, I've noticed an increase in this behaviour. I've spoken to numerous authors who have similar experiences to share. 

I kindly request that as commenters, we strive to be more mindful of how our words come across. Waking up to a comment that attacks the several hours to years of work we've (authors) poured into our stories is never a pleasant experience. Please understand that my intention is not to sound harsh; quite the contrary, and I want to emphasize that my following words are not directed at any specific individual, as I've come across numerous comments of this nature (many in the last week, in fact). I simply believe it is important to highlight the significant time and effort fanfic authors dedicate to their stories. If you find yourself not enjoying an author’s work, refrain from expressing your dissatisfaction directly to us. Writing is a hobby, not a duty.

[tombfreak]

A Deep Dive Into Antisocial Mindsets

how does the mind of a person with aspd work?

First off, it's important to understand what ASPD is, so let's get a few things cleared up before we really dive into it.

Antisocial Personality Disorder is classified in the DSM-5 as a cluster B personality disorder, and in the ICD-11 as a "personality disorder with dissociality".

(Since I live in a country that typically uses the DSM-5 as a guideline and it has a set classification for ASPD, I will be referring mainly to that.)

It's described as "pattern of disregard for, and violation of, the rights of others", and characterized as a maladaptive* practice of antisocial* behaviours.

*Maladaptive: Behaviours that cause issues in someones ability to adapt normally to daily situations

*Antisocial: Behaviours that are antagonistic to social practices, rules, and/or expectations

A personality disorder is

characterized by deeply ingrained maladaptive patterns of behavior, thoughts, and emotions that deviate from the cultural norms and cause distress or impair functioning in various areas of life

The current criteria for diagnosing ASPD involves a reoccurring, ingrained pattern of three or more of the following (occurring from at least age 15):

failure to conform to social norms, as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest.

repeated lying, deceitfulness, conning others for personal pleasure or profit

impulsivity or failure to plan ahead

irritability and aggressiveness

reckless disregard for safety of self or others

consistent irresponsibility

lack of remorse, being indifferent to or rationalizing having mistreated another

To understand ASPD, we need to dig a little bit deeper than a set of symptoms. It is important to note also that antisocial traits and beliefs are not necessarily an indication of antisocial personality disorder.

"only when antisocial personality traits are inflexible, maladaptive, and persistent and cause significant functional impairment or subjective distress do they constitute antisocial personality disorder." - DSM5

Antisocial beliefs in ASPD are views about themselves, others, and the world that are heavily engrained into their thoughts, perceptions, and behaviours. Most importantly, these traits negatively impact the individuals life on a regular basis. They are dysfunctional and reoccuring. In the criteria for ASPD, these harmful behavioural issues must have been present in the individuals life from at least 15 years old.

Looking into what causes ASPD can help us further gain insight into the condition as well.

"child abuse or neglect, unstable or erratic parenting. or inconsistent parental discipline may increase the likelihood that conduct disorder will evolve into antisocial personality disorder." -DSM5

"...in the absence of a parent or other caring, involved adult, a child cannot internalize his parent's values, a necessary factor in the development of morality."

"in homes where no adult takes an interest in or expresses love to a child, the conscience does not develop and the individual fails to be socialized in this very critical way. It seems likely that this is at least one possible cause of antisocial personality. Another possibility is that highly inconsistent discipline and attention, even from the same person, prevents the child from forming normal values."

"This form of child rearing allows the child to grow up without a clear understanding of what is right and what is wrong. Behaviorists believe that individuals learn their behavior by testing behaviors to see which is successful. Studies have shown that people with antisocial personality disorder frequently have fathers with the same disorder, and the child often observes and mimics the father's behavior." - Drug Therapy & Personality Disorders

A very important factor in early years of development is being taught about the "social contract". Like any other animal, children learn by seeing, and doing. They are highly impressionable, coming into the world as a blank slate. Children look to their peers and primary caregivers for guidance on how to respond to situations, and how to view the world.

(It is believed that there is commonly a genetic component to ASPD, and the environment may either worsen the antisocial traits or teach the child how to cope/adapt in positive ways)

If a child develops in an unstable situation, they may internalize maladaptive behaviours as a way to adapt, or because they don't have any healthy guidance to challenge these beliefs and behaviours towards the world.

Studies show that people with ASPD are highly likely to have grown up in neglectful and/or physically abusive households. There is also a correlation with children growing up witnessing criminal activity and the development of ASPD.

This is a very important factor to consider when looking into the mindsets of somebody with dysfunctional antisocial traits.

If a child comes into the world with no clue how anything works, or what anything means, and the only information they're given about the world is harmful, they will uncritically learn and adapt to that information.

A key element of ASPD beliefs is self-preservation. This heavily connects to a history of neglect, as the child who had no stable caregiver will grow to not trust that others will be reliable. They may also grow to not know what a healthy, trusting, caring connection with others looks like.

Personality Disorders are often thought to be something of a defence mechanism. A maladaptive defence mechanism as a response to a stressful environment in childhood that remained unchallenged and unsoothed.

Another key feature of this is that antisocial beliefs are related to justification. This is directly mentioned in the DSM-5 criterion A.7

"being indifferent to or rationalizing having mistreated another"

It is important to note, however, only 51% of those with ASPD will match this criteria. This doesn't necessarily take away from the general idea that antisocial beliefs include a rampant chain of excuses and justification to brush off their behaviours.

"individuals with personality disorders often view their symptoms as consistent with their own self-image, or ego-syntonic, and not as problems that need treatment." - Drug Therapy & Personality Disorders

ASPD is characterized by a disregard for others, rules, and norms. A common belief in people with ASPD is that they are above consequences, and never in the wrong. They refuse to put themselves in a submissive position to others, which often manifests as refusal to follow rules, responsibilities, and expectations.

At their core, they fear being controlled, weak, and losing power/dominance in a situation. They often lack the care, self-control, and forethought needed to healthily adapt to situations that threaten them. To them, it is a dog eat dog world, every man for themselves, survival of the fittest.

If we view ASPD as a maladaptive defense mechanism, then we can understand better how and why they respond to situations this way.

Studies show that reactive aggression* and hostile interpretation* is heavily prominent in those with antisocial behavioural patterns.

*Reactive Aggression: Aggressive behaviour in reaction to a perceived threat

*Hostile interpretation: Interpreting something as hostile or threatening to them

This means that people with ASPD are more likely than the average person to view an ambiguous comment, situation, etc as hostile (regardless of whether or not it actually was), and more likely to respond to that percieved threat with aggression.

The child who grew up in a hostile environment may have developed a brain that scans for the tiniest sign of an attack, and responds as it sees fit. It bites back.

As stated before, self-preservation is a very prominent trait in those with ASPD, and it is associated with a justification of their actions. People with ASPD think and act based on a worldview that everything is a matter of power and control, being on top or being hurt, dog eat dog.

In those who have ASPD, they commonly find themselves unwilling to, or unable to, care for anything but themselves. They often lack an empathetic response to others. "Not my life, not my problem". They are typically very defensive and protective of themselves, and protective towards things they value, but wont experience or express any care, compassion, or empathy towards anything they deem 'unworthy'.

It is the persistent irrationality and the ingrained lack of healthy adaptations and reponses to situations that makes ASPD a disorder. And it's the aggressive/dominating responses to threats, and justification of their responses, that makes the disorder antisocial.

[dnd-shows-have-my-soul]

Yesterday, I was talking with a couple of friends about the newest Dimension 20 episode and it was brought up how killer a party the bad kids are. Their levels of optimization and total mastery of the battlefield is a sight to behold. From there, it was mentioned how Bells Hells and the Bad Kids are at the same level (level 13). And naturally, we began to compare the two parties, and it became quickly apparent that one party felt leagues ahead of the other. And that got me thinking, what do the Bad Kids have that Bells Hells don't?

And this is nothing about the players themselves. All 13 players from both CR and D20 are masters of what they do. Their level of strategy and creativity is unparalleled. And you can't say that one group of people is specifically better than the other. So then where are these problems coming from? And then I realized the problems didn’t have anything to do with the players. Not with characters or even their choices

It’s their party composition that’s the real issue.

While on the surface, BHs looks like a very diverse party, everyone in it is very locked into specific roles. We have three melee fighters (who can really only act as melee fighters), two spell casters who mostly have damaging spells (mixed in with some support stuff) and a cleric (that is really locked into their role of healing and support). Fearne is really the only character with any real versatility but because of the current party setup, she kind of has to play support or healing, otherwise the party becomes very unbalanced.

Because so many characters are unable to deviate from their “roles,” everything becomes much harder.

Look at the bad kids in comparison, Adaine can quickly switch from pure damage dealing to support moves very quickly, Fig can switch between melee to spells to straight up healing, and Fabian, who is mostly melee, is still able to take on a support role because of his levels in bard. And while they do have some more rigid roles (Kristen, Gorgug, Riz), these characters still have options via spells.

The best DND parties are the ones where the individual roles are fluid and ever changing. And because BHs setup, that becomes a difficult feat to pull off.

And then I was thinking about why.

Why they would design the party this way if it was so clearly unsteady.

But the thing is, it wasn’t supposed to be.

Because there is one word that explains exactly why the party is what is. One word that simultaneously explains and fixes everything.

One word.

Dorian.

Having a bard in the party would go miles into helping BHs and make a lot of those issues outright disappear. Dorian ,as a Swords bard, can engage in direct melee, but can also provide additional support and be another source of healing within the party. Spells like Hypnotic Pattern, Warding Wind, and Shatter are all incredibly useful within combat, and having caster that can take a hit is always a good thing.

And again, do I think that Bells Hells doing something wrong by having the party they have? Absolutely not. Despite my earlier statements, I'm genuinely impressed by their accomplishments, strategy and overall creativity. I love them all. But having a Bard in the party wouldn't hurt.

TLDR; Dorian we need you.

[illnessfaker]

god this pisses me off though like trying to locate where the division between mental disability/illness and physical disability/illness using the body/mind is almost entirely irrelevant anyway because that's not where the distinction is actually created because the distinction is sociocultural. in other words, the distinction between mental and physical conditions is not an essential one, it is one that is externally created due to the ways in which they are stigmatized and also categorized and addressed by the medical establishment and society as a whole.

diagnoses of mental conditions revolve around analysis of thinking and behavior. diagnoses of physical conditions revolve around analysis of bodily function. sanism and ableism against mental conditions revolve around punishment for perceived deviations from normative patterns in thinking and behavior. ableism against physical conditions revolves around punishment for perceived deviations from normative bodily functioning.

obviously these two things have overlap. obviously appeals to neurological functioning are often made when it comes to sanism and ableism against mental conditions ("something is wrong with your brain") but that doesn't mean beliefs around brain dysfunction are the backbone of sanism and ableism against mental conditions. obviously appeals to psychological functioning are made when it comes to ableism against physical conditions (medical gaslighting and accusations of physically disabled/ill people just being "crazy" or "hysteric" or "making things up") but that doesn't mean beliefs around psychological functioning are the backbone of ableism against physical conditions.

yeah, conversion and psychosomatic symptoms exist. yeah, there are many cases in which mental conditions create chronic enough physical impairment or physical conditions create chronic enough impairments in thinking/behavior that the lines between mental and physical disability/illness. yeah, medications that alter neurological functioning are used in treatment for mental conditions, but again, the goal is changes in thinking and behavior + medication is not the only effective treatment. absolutely none of that means that the distinction needs to be thrown out wholesale because that would be like insisting we shouldn't make any distinction between men and women or transgender and cisgender anymore since gender is also socially-constructed rather than being an inherent quality - we still live in a society where gendered violence exists and where men and women/transgender and cisgender people are, broadly, not treated as if they are the same and have different enough general relationships to gendered violence that those categories are warranted in understanding how our society functions.

you can simultaneously acknowledge these 6 things as true:

mind/body dualism is a farce

there are mental conditions can be associated with chronic physical impairment or forms or chronic physical impairment that result from psychological processes (e.g PNES, conversion symptoms, etc.)

there are conditions that are definitively both mental and physical (e.g. motor disorders, neurogenetic disorders, incidences traumatic brain injury with chronic impairments as a result such as cerebral palsy.)

some medications for mental conditions can create chronic physical impairment (e.g. tardive dyskenesia) and some treatments for physical conditions can create chronic mental impairment

mentally disabled/ill people and physically disabled/ill people have many overlapping experiences in terms of ableism stigma/violence that can be grounds for solidarity

the distinction between the two is still warranted because when able-bodied neurodivergent people engage in ableism against physically disabled people or physically disabled people without particular mental conditions (e.g. intellectual disability, psychotic disorders, etc.) engage in sanism or ableism against people with said mental conditions, that's not lateral aggression - that's just straight-up aggression*

*consider that straight-up aggression can also happen within the umbrellas of physical disability/illness (sighted people directing ableism towards blind people/people with vision loss, hearing people directing ableism towards d/Deaf people, etc.) and mental disability/illness (mentally ill people in situations where they are at minimal risk for psychiatric violence encouraging psychiatric violence against those with cluster-b personality disorders or psychotic disorders, mentally disabled people who are not intellectually disabled speaking over or ignoring or co-opting terminology from those who are intellectually disabled.) this is all the more reason to not pretend that the overlap between mental and physical disability/illness means the distinction is useless altogether.

there, i spelled it out for you. can everyone shut up now?

[bloombubs]

— blurb ; " Shut up and let me take care of you! " notes: reader x adrian chase / fluff fluff fluff / sick reader and adrian is just soft / super cheesy and cliche / this is v plotless, just thinking about adrian taking care of me while im sick....what can i say? wc: 1.1k

“I swear Adrian, I’m not sick,” Y/N diligently scrubbed the remnants of their dinner from the dishes. The glow that usually adorned her face had dimmed, her nose tinged with a rosy hue, and the occasional throat clearing betrayed a hidden discomfort. His eyes softened as he witnessed her battling against the persistent sniffles and the weariness etched on her features. In the dim glow of the kitchen, Adrian felt a surge of protectiveness welling within him. 

Behind her, Adrian stood, his fingers delicately slipping beneath her pajama shirt to massage her sides. Unlike his usual attempts to distract her, this time, it wasn't driven by urgency; it was a deliberate and unhurried touch, as if he were savoring each moment, considering his next move with thoughtful intent. His touch, warm and tender, conveyed an unspoken promise of comfort and care. The roughness of his fingers against her soft skin made him relax, his fingers holding in place.

Y/N had been acting strangely since she came home. Instead of the usual routine of exploring the apartment to find Adrian and greet him with a kiss, she had beelined straight for a hot shower. It was a departure from the norm, a subtle deviation that hadn't escaped Adrian's mind. As a creature of habit, he found comfort in patterns, and any deviation from the usual routine with Y/N piqued his concern. He pressed several kisses to the side of her head, enjoying the scent of her shampoo and body wash from her wet hair.

 “I can wash these dishes by myself if you just want to go prep for patrol–”  Y/N began to protest.

“Shut up and let me take care of you,” Adrian groaned, a mixture of concern and exasperation in his voice. It was a plea that echoed beyond the kitchen, emphasizing his deep-rooted desire to be there for her. The sound of his voice right near her ear made her shiver, goosebumps covering her skin.

With a decisive moment, Adrian's fingers lifted away from her sides, gently relieving her of the dishes as he placed them in the sink. The faucet's gentle stream ceased, and a soft groan escaped her lips as she leaned back against his chest. Her defenses crumbled in the face of his determined care, the sanctuary of his embrace providing a haven against the trials of the day.

“Adrian–”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. You’re sick; I can hear it in your voice.” Adrian's arms enveloped her, a reassuring embrace, full of tenderness. “Let me take care of you,” he urged, his voice now a soft murmur, pressing his lips to the side of her head. Gently nudging her away from the kitchen, he guided her to their bedroom. Her movements were sluggish, but Adrian supported her every step of the way

Seated on the edge of the bed, Adrian's hazel eyes scanned her face, vulnerability laid bare. He pressed his hand against her forehead, concerned with etching lines on his features.

“You’re hot, sweetheart. Like fever hot–but you’re always hot to me.” he grinned, injecting a playful note in an attempt to elicit a smile from her. His genuine affection shone through the moment, a glimmer of warmth in the midst of her discomfort.

The girl rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging on the corner of her lips. Adrian took her smile in appreciation, leaning down to kiss her forehead gently. Excusing himself for a brief moment, Y/N found herself slowly stripping out of her pants as she sought the comforting embrace of their bed. Nestling into the soft blankets, she sighed in relief, catching the familiar scent of Adrian's shampoo lingering in the sheets.

Shivering slightly, her body aching, Y/N sighed as Adrian returned to the room. In his hands, he carried a steaming cup of hot tea and a set of medicine. With careful consideration, he settled beside her, placing everything on the nightstand. His gentle touch caressed her arm as she leaned up in bed, her skin appearing flushed and perhaps a little clammy. 

He watched her take the medicine and sip her tea, a sniffle following. A small smile of appreciation graced her features as she looked at her boyfriend before bundling back into the sheets of their bed. If she wasn’t so sick, Adrian mused, he would crawl on top of her and cover every inch of her body with kisses. Quite frankly, that's what had been occupying his thoughts all day, but he had to shelve that desire and focus on taking care of his girl in a different way.

After a few moments of contemplation, Adrian made a decision. He got off the bed once more and walked over to the bathroom. Y/N, wrapped in the cocoon of blankets, was lost in her attempts to ward off fever chills and wasn't fully aware of Adrian's movements. The soft creak of the bathroom door caught her attention, and her eyes fluttered open to behold Adrian, shirtless and clad in snug sweatpants that accentuated his waist.

“Maybe I’m feeling better now,” Y/N rasped at the sight of Adrian. He met her gaze with an amused glint in his eyes, fully appreciating his girl's playful spirit even in the midst of illness. The realization of his actions struck her, and a frown formed on her face. “Why aren’t you getting ready for patrol?”

Adrian returned to his side of the bed, sitting down, prompting Y/N to turn over to face him. His glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he looked down at her.  “C’mere,” he beckoned, not waiting for her response before gently pulling her against his chest. His embrace was a comforting haven, a sanctuary from the discomfort that accompanied her illness. She immediately felt the comfort spreading over her, the vibration of his chest when he spoke, the sound of his heart beating, she felt utterly safe and loved.

“I would rather make sure you’re okay tonight. I’m sure the people of Evergreen know not to participate in graffiti anymore.” he rambled slightly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns up and down her back. His sincerity resonated in his words, and his touch served as a gentle reminder of his unwavering commitment to her well-being.

“Plus, we didn’t talk much during dinner–and I have to tell you everything.” Adrian continued, his voice carrying a hint of playfulness as he sought to lighten the mood. The dim light of their bedroom created a serene atmosphere, and in that moment, the outside world faded away, leaving only the shared space of their intimate conversation. Y/N couldn't help but smile at Adrian's caring nature, appreciating the warmth of his presence.

“So, today, Eagly–”

[kings-highway]

Hi King!!! I absolutely adore your fics my dude, I found your trapped in the wilderness fic like a year or two back, forgot about it, and then found your Daichi time travel fic. So you can imagine my delighted surprise when I looked at your ao3 account and found out this was the same author! I was like “0o0, I KNOW YOU!! :D” Suffice to say I love your Haikyuu fics they are an absolute gem to read (Time Enough to Risk it All and Paranormality are my personal faves)

I had a question for you, similar to a previous ask you got about tips on writing? Not general tips mind you, I’m trying to write a Haikyuu fanfic myself starring Oikawa, and I wanted to know if you had any writing tips regarding character writing specifically? Like, in regards to getting into a character’s head and how that influences the POV? I’m probably going to have multiple POVs in different chapters, but I don’t want to run into the old trap of, “These are two separate characters but they sound like the same person” y’know? Also want to make sure I’m avoiding OOC territory, while taking any potential plot developments and how that would change a character into account. And I know you’re good at that, all your interpretations of the Haikyuu cast feel distinct yet true to the characters at their core!

aaaaaaaaaa oh my god thank you so much 😭 I'm very glad you've liked my silly stories so much. I will do my best to provide advice for your question here...

**Keeping Characters In Character - this is VERY fanfic specific!!**

[obv. writing original work requires strong character voice but the question and this response is super focused on characters that you have source material to work with]

1. my immediate first thought, and the thing I default to the most, is **Pay Attention To How Other Characters Talk About Them** yes, its all fine and dandy to go off and say "oh theyve got these secret other side-" because yeah!! they probably do!! everyone is multiple people depending on the circumstance!! but the way other characters talk about them or act around them really will define how your character is behaving, because it shows how they are *choosing* to behave (and what can be seen from the outside) Paying attention to the relative relationships of these characters describing them matter too. Here are examples (all from Haikyuu) of how I do this:

1. Daichi

[in early season 1, when Daichi gets mad at the duo, Suga and Tanaka both start trying to fuck off out of scene in preparation; similarly, both Suga and Tanaka try to hide their secret practice from him.] = People are generally afraid of him, or aware that getting yelled at is on the table, but he's predictable. They both start acting afraid BEFORE he gets angry because they are familiar with his patterns. [Suga and Asahi comment on it feeling weird when he's nice to them, and he snaps at them to say he could be mean instead.] = His casual conversational tone isn't very complimentary. Since we dont see him being overtly mean, I asssume this means he is on the quieter side, probably very reserved, and typically speaks up to correct someone or direct and take control of a conversation. Being overtly nice is seen as a deviation is his conversational habits. [Noya acts very distinctly interested and pleased when he learns Daichi has given him a cool nickname] = People hold a lot of respect for him. Given the previous details, we can assume this is at least in part due to him often withholding such praise, but also we can use it to temper the previous notes. His "meanness" is not coming across as malice, but rather something worth respecting or justified in some way.

Application in Writing: Dialogue should be direct and consistent, use shorter sentences and have him think before he speaks. He finds annoyance and anger easier to express and will likely withhold affectionate conversations from everyone regardless of closeness of friendship level. While he comes across mean, he is not insulting, belittling or cruel, and since people have significant respect for him, he likely avoids situations that would make him look foolish, and will probably be the last to join in on the fun.

QUICKER EXAMPLES:

2. Suga [Every character describes Suga as nice and kind, there is no "bad review" of him.] = No matter his opinion of someone, Suga will use kind, gentle language with them and avoid giving them a reason to dislike him.

3. Oikawa [Iwaizumi, in voice over, says something to the effect of: "despite how he might seem, Oikawa is actually a pretty goofy guy."] = While not given the opportunity often, Oikawa is playful, unserious and silly - the word "goofy" is important to note. Its not funny. Comedians are funny. Dogs with long floopy ears are "goofy" - However he either intentionally or unintentionally chooses not to behave this way often. Either way, he has distinct "sides" to him that can be identified. However, his natural state is far more goofy than we give him credit for, so he will likely be the first to crack jokes, laugh at dumb things, or general want to lighten the mood. He doesnt like things to be gloomy and may actively resist that kind of conversation or situation.

4. Leon calling Ushijima a "super volleyball idiot" says way more about his behaviour off the court than anything Ushijima ever did. Oikawa and Kageyama and Hinata and Atsumu get to be monsters but no, Leon says its the term "we" are most "satisfied with". Did they pitch other names? They do not take Ushijima seriously at all. So his terrifying persona is probably very superficial. None of the team has ever had an actually bad experience with him, and he is very consistent in his likes and desires: probably doesnt have a (conversationally) confrontational bone in his body. "We could call him a monster but nah, he's too fucking weird for that." Like what more of a character study do you need!! Leon STOP.

This is dragging on longer than I want it to. I apologize. I could have more to say on the matter but to sum it up quick:

People, humans, are multifaceted, but ultimately are most defined by how they are remembered, and how they choose to present themselves to the world. This is will affect that "voice" that you're worried about sounding the same. Ultimately, all your characters will be the same. Everyone is insecure, everyone wants to be seen as attractive, everyone things theyre not good enough, everyone worries their lover will grow tired of them, everyone thinks they are the only person to have ever felt that way. The change, that voice, is how they want everyone else to look at them.

Using the previous notes, we can answer the question: "Oh my god, You look really good today!!" 4 ways. Internally, they're all very happy to receive a compliment because they wore a new shirt and they weren't sure it looked good. Externally...

Daichi: "Oh. Thank you."

Suga: "Ohh, Thank you! That's so sweet of you to say."

Oikawa: "I look really good today? Did I not yesterday? Ah, just messing with you - I know I looked good yesterday."

Ushijima: "I do? Good."

LAST TANGENT:

if you are NATIVE ENGLISH and youre writing fanfiction for NON-ENGLISH SHOW. IDC if youre a subtitles purist, WATCH IT IN ENGLISH. being able to (in your native language) use the characters voice in your head to read dialogue makes a world of difference. I DONT CARE if you can head Sugas Japanese VA perfectly - UNLESS YOU SPEAK JAPANESE IT WONT HELP.

Whenever I'm struggling with writing Sugawara, or a l think he's OOC, I just mentally replay the soundbite from the dub of him going "Good Grief!" like a goddamn oeanuts character and then its like "oh yeah. he's back. i know how to write him now."

I have a few of these little soundbite grounding things for some of them. Its REALLY helpful to be able hear the characters voices saying the lines (sorry if youre deaf..) and if you CANT (and you normally can) then maybe the dialogue is ooc.

WAIT ONE MORE TANGENT:

"King, you've only talked about dialogue??? what about-" Dialogue controls actions!!! if you can get a characters conversational tone and linguistic habits down, you'll have NO ISSUES keeping their physical habits in check.

thus concludes another advice corner. i am working on the other questions atm but i have limited time and cannot do more than 1 after work without my brain melting so :)

thanks for reading :) happy writing

xx