#this is actually the first time i have drawn her not wearing a skirt

[synelven]

what if ensign tila'ave got assigned to ds9?

[the-merry-otter]

If you’re on mobile, you may have to click on the images for better quality!

Plain text version with image descriptions is under the cut.

Please note that the image descriptions will be reflecting what I am trying to convey with the photo, rather than the total look of the photo itself. For example if I am trying to describe a dress, the hair colour of the person wearing it will be ignored. This is to reduce the total word count of the descriptions, because I have a lot of images to describe. On this note, I have also streamlined the information as much as possible.

[Plain text description:]

First slide: Mariota’s Guide to 14th Century (Medieval) Women’s Clothing

This slideshow is brought to you by @the-merry-otter on tumblr

ALRIGHT LISTEN UP MOTHERS AND FUCKERS. I’m bored, so today we’re going to be talking about medieval clothing. Specifically fourteenth century English clothing because that’s what I’m good at. (Source: trust me bro I’m a reenacter). Also this is all female stuff - sorry masc leaning folks, I’ll get to you someday!

Disclaimer: this is not completely comprehensive or nuanced in the slightest, it’s just a quick overview guide. Do your own research xoxo.

[Image ID: to the left is a picture of a woman in a light blue dress and a pink hood gazing out at a lake. The hood has a skirt that falls over her shoulders, and there is along thin pipe attached to the back of the hood that dangles to her knees. The edges of the hood are decorated with burgundy crochet. The picture is captioned “beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, literal goals.” End ID]

[Image ID: To the right is a picture of a typical renn faire outfit. It has a white poofy underdress, a black corset, and a brown skirt. There is a red cross drawn over the image. It is captioned “very pretty, but definitely not medieval sorry!” End ID]

Second slide: Underwear (ooh la la)

Now with nasty pocketses

[Image ID: a picture of gollum, from lord of the rings, snarling in disgust. There is a line in The Hobbit where he asks Bilbo what he has in his nasty little pocketses, which is what I am referencing. End ID]

So, corsets, stays, and shapewear in general kind of wasn’t a thing yet. So your underwear was a shift, which was awesome because it was also your pajamas. They were usually made of linen, though some might have been made of cotton is you were rich.

[Image ID: A plain white linen garment laid out flat on the floor. It is a dress that hangs to about knee length, with elbow length sleeves. An arrow points to it with text reading “this is a shift”. End ID]

There is evidence for supportive shifts for busy support, like this one from the fourteenth century!

[Image ID: a second shift, worn by a female presenting person. It is laced up the front, and is a lot tighter and more fitted, especially around the bust. It has straps instead of sleeves. End ID]

There’s also this bra like fragment found in Austria, but that is a whole debate so.

[Image ID: A bra-like garment fitted to a mannequin. It seems to be made out of white linen, coloured with time. The left cup is damaged, and overall the garment looks incomplete. End ID]

Then, over the shift, yet under your main dress went your pockets, which tied on at the waist. Your dresses had slits do that you could get at your stuff without flashing everyone lol.

[Image ID: A picture of medieval pockets. They are upside down teardrop shaped, but the point is flat and is part of the waist ties. There are slits in the side up the top to access the inside. They are cream coloured with bright floral embroidery. The caption reads “these bad boys can fit so many cool pebbles.” End ID]

[Image ID: A young female-presenting person wearing medieval clothing. She has her hands in the pocket slits of her dress. They are just below hip height. End ID]

Third slide: your dress, or the cotehardie. (Pronounced coat hardy)

Over the shift you put your dress, sometimes referred to as either a kirtle or cotehardie. 14th century people started actually form-fitting their clothes more than previous centuries. These needed fastenings, which were mostly lacings (spiral lacings specifically), or buttons made of either metal or cloth, used at the front of the dress from neckline to waist, and on the sleeves from elbow to wrist, with exceptions of course.

(Sidenote: fuck sleeves, all my homies hate sleeves)

[Image ID: a woman in a warm yellow dress to the left of the text. The dress is constructed simply, with a single piece of fabric used for the length of the body so there is no waist seam. The skirt is widened by inserting four triangles, one each at the front and back, and one on each side. The front has buttons made of the same fabric as the dress, that go down to the belt at the waist. The sleeves have similar buttons from wrist to elbow, on the outside of the arm. The woman is also wearing a liripipe hood. End ID]

Dresses seemed to be mostly wool, though I often use linen for mine because I live in Australia and it’s hot in summer and I don’t want to die. Most often they weren’t lined (that is what the underwear was for).

[Image ID: in the top left of the slide is a woman wearing a green woollen dress. It is constructed the same as the previous image, except it has spiral lacing on the front instead of buttons. The sleeves are fastened by three small buttons. She is wearing a simple and veil. End ID]

[Image ID: the top right of the slide shows a woman in a teal coloured dress, similar to the one before. This one has metal buttons at the sleeves and down the front. She wears a veil only. End ID]

The neckline of these dresses was usually round or an oval shape, and some manuscripts have it so wide that it falls off the shoulders slightly.

[Image ID: A photo of a medieval manuscript, depicting six medieval ladies in a row holding hands. The neckline of their dresses is wide enough that the tops of their shoulders are visible. The image is captioned “me and the girls on a Friday night”. End ID]

Clothing was a lot more colourful than the movies would have us believe lol.

[Image ID: Three women, each in dresses similar to the ones before. To the left is a forest green, the middle one is bright saffron yellow, and the one to the right is a vibrant tomato red. End ID].

Fourth slide: Dress two; electric boogaloo

[Image ID: Merry and Pippin from lord of the rings. Above them, meme text reads “we’ve had one, yes”, and then continues below with “but what about second dress?”. End ID]

You could also wear an overdress, which was usually of a contrasting colour and had shorter sleeves.

As well as fashion, they would have been used for extra warmth, and so were usually made of wool.

[Image ID: a woman in a maroon coloured dress like the ones on the previous slide. The sleeves stop just above her elbow, revealing a blue dress underneath. End ID].

Common people would have only owned a couple of different outfits, as fabric was super expensive.

[Image ID: various pictures of women with examples of an overdress. They are all constructed the same as the overdress, but with shorter sleeves that reveal a second sleeve of a different colour underneath. End ID]

A common late thirteenth to mid fourteenth century overdress was the ladies surcoat, which had big holes instead of sleeves.

Belts would have been worn underneath the surcoat.

[Image ID: three photos of women wearing surcoats. They are normal dresses, except there is a large D shape cut out of either side, leaving a large hole from the shoulder to below the hip. They have no buttons down the front. One of the surcoats is made of red brocade, and obviously belongs to an upper-class impression. End ID].

Fifth slide: Hair and headwear

Hair was worn braided and pinned up, with a coif (cap) and either a wimple or veil, or both. The wimple and/or veil were usually pinned to the coif, or secured on a band of fabric around the head.

Veils would be either oval, or a D shape. Wimples were rectangular. A wimple goes under the chin and a veil goes over your head.

[Image ID: a close up of a woman wearing a wimple. It is made of a light fabric, likely silk. The wimple wraps under her chin and is secured at the back of her head. A narrow band of fabric or possibly leather circles her brow, which would have been used to secure the wimple. End ID.]

[Image ID: A picture of YouTuber Morgan Donner wearing a wimple and veil. The wimple wraps under her chin, and the veil is placed on top of her head, draping down past her shoulders. It does not cover her face. Loops of hair are visible either side of her face. End ID]

All the headwear would be made of linen, thin wool, or silk, depending on class. The veils could also be made really fancy by ruffling the front edge or by attaching pearls.

[Image ID: a woman in a wimple and half-circle veil. The edge of the veil that frames her face is elaborately ruffled. The edge of a coif is visible under the veil. End ID]

I ride the bus in my medieval gear a lot because of events, and way too many people think I’m Amish because of my veil. It’s honestly just funny at this point. I should keep a tally.

[Image ID: a woman wearing a St Birgitta’s coif, pinning a wimple at the back of her head. The coif is a simple white linen cap that encloses the head, with a line of lace down the centre of the head. It is secured with a loop of linen around the head. End ID].

[Image ID: a picture of someone with plaits that have been pinned around the head like a crown. It is captioned “you could also pin your hair up like this”. End ID]

Working women might have just wrapped their head in a scarf instead, fuck this fancy shit right?

[Image ID: a woman in a headscarf that has been twisted and then looped around the front of her head. It is captioned #girlboss. End ID].

Fake braids were a thing! Blonde hair in particular was very fashionable, and bleaching or fake braids were sometimes used to achieve that.

[Image ID: two fake braids made of a coarse fibre. They are blonde in colour, and are looped like a hairstyle seen on many of the reenactors. They have white ribbons attached to the top end to help secure them to the head. End ID]

Sixth slide: Cloaks and hoods

These would have actually been two seperate garments! Integrated hoods on cloaks didn’t actually become a thing until the … seventeenth century or so? (Citation needed).

Cloaks were a lot simpler than the typical cloak we think of nowadays. Often they were just a rectangle of wool, or by the fourteenth century, sometimes a half circle.

They were almost always wool as far as I know, and were generally fastened by a cloak pin or buttons.

[Image ID: a metal cloak pin. It is a circle with a small opening at one point. A long pin is attached via a loop, allowing it to slide along the pin. It can fit through the opening in the circle. To use one, you would gather the fabric on the pin, and then slot the circle over the pin and then turn it, so the fabric is trapped between circle and pin. This is much easier to demonstrate than describe. The picture is captioned “these bad boys are the real MVP’s though”. End ID].

[Image ID: a diagram showing the construction of the bocksten man cloak. It is a half circle pieced together by laying strips of fabric together. In the centre of the flat side, a half circle is cut out for the neck. End ID]

[Image ID: a reconstruction of the bocksten man cloak. It is orange wool, and lined with an off-white linen. It is fastened on the right shoulder by three fabric buttons. It would fall to just above the wearers knees. End ID].

Women’s hoods could be short and open, or with a longer skirt and closed with buttons. Liripipe (pronounced leery-pipe) hoods were named for the tube of fabric that dangled off the back of your hood, varying in length. As well as a fashion statement, it could also be wrapped around the neck like a scarf if it got cold.

Hoods were nearly always wool I’m pretty sure, though they were often lined with linen, silk, or cotton.

[General description: a short liripipe hood would be open, with the bottom only reaching your shoulders. They were made from a single piece of fabric that would wrap over your head, with the seam down the centre back of your head. It was flared at the bottom by inserting triangular gores. At the front edge near your face there would be a strip jutting out that went from one side of your chin, over your head, and down to the other side. This would usually be folded back, revealing the lining colour. The bottom of the hood could either just reach the base of your neck, or reach down to just past your shoulders. The former would usually be open at the front, with fastenings optional. The latter option with the longer skirt was almost always able to be fastened up the front with fabric buttons. The liripipe itself was a thin flat tube of fabric fastened at the centre top back of the hood. End ID]

Fun fact, 90% of why I decided to reenact the fourteenth century specifically was because of liripipe hoods.

Seventh slide: Feet (not in a weird way)

Hose were used to keep your legs warm. For women they were usually knee height, and fastened just underneath it with a garter or tie.

[Image ID: a single light yellow hose, belted beneath the knee with a leather garter. The seam is down the centre back of the leg going all the way to your toes, and then around the top of the foot in front of where it connects to your leg. End ID]

Hose usually would have been made from wool, and were cut on the diagonal (bias) of the fabric to get the maximum stretch possible from the fabric. They still were looser than modern tights are though!

Knitted socks were also a thing I’m pretty sure, but I don’t know enough about them. Sorry!

Shoes were simple, usually referred to as turnshoes because of how they were made. Fun fact: the lack of foot support means that turnshoes are similar to going barefoot in terms of how you walk. Some reenactors love it, some hate it, and some are indifferent lol.

[Image ID: a pair of turnshoes made of dark leather. They have a strap that would fasten around the front of the ankle, similar to some modern shoes. The toes are pointed, and it is captioned “pointy toes were fashionable, especially for men”. End ID].

Because shoes were really hard to waterproof, (ask me how I know), and didn’t have solid soles, wooden pattens (pronounced pat-tens) were worn to keep you off the ground while outside.

[Image ID: a person wearing a pair of wooden pattens over their shoes, standing on a drenched cobblestone street. They are wooden platforms with an archway on the bottom, and are attached to the foot with leather straps around the toe, ankle, and around the back of the heel, similar to modern sandals. The image is captioned “ye old crocs”. End ID].

[Image ID: a woman’s leg with the skirts drawn back, revealing the bright yellow hose underneath. It is fastened below the knee with a strip of fabric. She wears a turnshoe with a buckled strap. End ID]

Eighth slide: Accessories

These are a few other items that might have made up a working woman’s outfit.

Aprons would definitely have been used while working. One were just a large rectangle of cloth tucked into the belt, some were smocked to draw in the fabric. They generally stopped at the waist.

[Image ID: a woman in a red dress, with a very light brown apron. It is smocked at the top, and is attached around the waist with a string. End ID].

Pretty broaches and other jewellery existed! There was cheaper stuff made of pewter for the lower classes.

[Image ID: five gold brooches, studded with different jewels and pearls. End ID].

They had a funny sense of humour as well… and they weren’t all prudes.

[Image ID: a pewter broach of a cat carrying a dick and balls in its mouth. It is captioned “you can actually buy these. I know a website.” End ID].

Eating knives were worn on the belt, though it is debated whether women would have carried one. I do because I’m a modern fourteenth century woman.

[Image ID: a small knife with a wooden handle, laying on top of a leather sheath that has been dyed red. End ID]

Belts are a curiously debated topic. Some people reckon that women would have definitely worn them, others say they they weren’t used by women much at all. As far as I know there are depictions of both, so choose what you’d prefer. They are great for hanging stuff on I gotta say.

[Image ID: a coiled up brown leather belt. The buckle and tip are a gold metal, and it has decorative flower studs along its length in the same metal. End ID]

Pretty little purses would have probably been worn. I don’t know enough about them to say anything else though.

[Image ID: two different pictures of reenactors wearing purses. One is brocade and the other a red fabric. They are in the shape of an upright triangle, and both have five tassels hanging from the bottom edge. They hang off the belt with long drawstrings. Unrelated to the purses, one of the women is wearing a gorgeous orange liripipe hood, that is embroidered and dagged on the bottom skirt edge. End ID]

Ninth slide: Fancy Shmancy

There is a lot I haven’t covered, especially in the realm of the upper classes. Here is some of what has been missed. (Buckle up because this section is very image heavy. I will be as concise as possible).

Heraldic dresses! If you are interested, go check out Morgan Donners video on YouTube.

[Image ID: a picture of Morgan Donner in her heraldic dress. One half of the dress is red, and the other is green, except for where it has been cut out by white with an ermine pattern on it. Her hair is unbound and uncovered, except by a small flower crown. It is captioned “Morgan bestie do your hair properly :(“. End ID]

[Image ID: a drawing of two women in heraldic dresses. The first has a blue right half with a yellow printed design. The top left of the dress is yellow with a blue fish, and the bottom left is red with a white fish. Her train is held by the second lady, who’s dress is blue on the right, and white with green birds on the left. End ID].

Fancy headpieces for rich bitches only.

[Image ID: a reenactor doing a high class impression. Her hair is bound up in Pearl studded hair nets on either side of her head like modern earmuffs, with a spiked coronet around her brow. She has a sheer silk wimple on. End ID]

Fancy dagged edged on hoods, sleeves, dresses, etc.

[Dagging description: where the edge has been cut away to make decorative dangly bits. One hood has red leaves around the bottom edge for example, and another just has a pretty geometric pattern. End description].

Brocade gowns! So pretty!

[Image ID: several different pictures of high class ladies wearing brocade gowns of different colours. These are similar to the wool dresses we were looking at earlier, but with longer trains, and often long draping sleeves. There is even a brocade surcoat. End ID]

Fancy sleeves!

[Image ID: examples of different long sleeves. On some, the sleeve is normal until the elbow, and then it falls away to a long strip of fabric that dangles to the ground. Not mentioned on the slide itself is tippets, which was a band of (usually white) fabric just above your elbow, with a thin strip of the same fabric that draped down to the floor. End ID].

Dresses that were two different colours.

[Image ID: examples of dresses that are exactly like the earlier wool dresses, except they are literally half one colour and half another. The manuscript example is a blue and red overdress with fancy sleeves, and the reenactor example is a yellow and green underdress with a red hood. End ID]

And of course, some of the funky fun fabric choices.

[Image ID: a manuscript depiction of a woman carrying a dead bird. Her hood is red and white striped horizontally, and her dress is dark and light blue striped, also horizontally. End ID].

[Image ID: a manuscript depicting a woman talking to a second lady in a chair. The dress on the first has horizontal stripes of white, red, yellow, and blue, repeated, and the second has horizontal stripes of white, pink, and light blue. Interestingly enough the latter colours are very similar to the transgender flag which would make a very cool dress project. Hmm. End ID].

Tenth (and final) slide: In summery

(Small red text below title reads “I hope you have enjoyed” with a drawn smiling face).

Dis you notice all the “usually” “commonly” and “often’s” in there? That’s because I cannot possibly illustrate everything that we know of the time in only ten slides, nor do I know everything, so I have just tried to show what seems to be the most depicted.

Note: I probably even got some stuff wrong by the way.

If you’re interested in this stuff, I really recommend doing your own research now! Hopefully I have given you a good overview of what a fourteenth century womens outfit might have looked like, so now you can go fourth and know what you’re looking for.

If you have any questions about costuming, reenactment, or anything else, feel free to contact me!! I respond on Timblr decently fast ☺️

[Image ID: a reenactor sitting on a log, staring into the distance with a slight smile. She is wearing a grey-blue dress, belted at the waist with a small purse dangling from it. She has a dark blue cape and a light blue hood, that has fallen back to show a ruffled white veil. There is a pewter broach on her hood. A leather turnshoe peeks out from beneath the hem of her dress. End ID]

A list of helpful YouTubers:

Elin Abrahamsson

Morgan Donner

Opus Elenae

Miss Joss (her instagram is more active).

Now go hydrate!!

[Image ID: a woman in fourteenth century garb drinking from a jug. End ID]

[alllgator-blood]

I s2g if you add the layers of these comic pages together, it's over 350 layers. THIS is why I don't do full color for my comics lmaooo- ANYWAY EVERYONE HERE HAS AN AU APPARENTLY, SO THIS IS A BRIEF GLIMPSE INTO MINE. I don't know what to call it yet but I'm thinking of calling it "famous prophets" because 1. I like that car seat headrest song, 2. it's about shamura who is prophetic, 3. it's about trying to outrun fate with the Power of Love (and failing. Like the song!!!). It takes place when all the bishops were teens/kids during the age of hundreds of gods at war, and were trying to survive as a family.

I'm really excited to work on stuff for it but it's all gonna be drawn out of order. Maybe I'll write a full explanation of what it's gonna be about when I have a better idea...I want to channel my eldest sibling angst in a productive way, and maybe establish a QPP between shamura and a completely random npc everyone forgets about <3 also kallamar is trans too cause I said so. I'll do a comic about it eventually. Instead of an absence of gender he has TOO much gender. It simply cannot be contained.

I like that nonbinary genders are normalized in cult of the lamb to the point where nobody singles anyone out for being a they/them, it's not like "THIS IS MY SIBLING SHAMURA. THEY ARE NONBINARY AND USE THEY/THEM. ALRIGHT BACK TO KILLING YOU", it's just like "don't you fucking dare make my poor sibling wake up from their nap to kick your ass. Cause they deserve better than this."

But at the same time I like having the freedom to be more specific, and say "shamura is voidpunk and their gender is best described as the feeling that overtakes you during the first snow of the year, when everything outside is deathly quiet". This comic is actually derived from the time I was walking through a forest that's been torn down for a few years, and came out to my little sister as trans. I must've been like 13 or 14 and she didn't really get it as a 10 year old, but it was better than my mom FREAKING OUT about me coming out. So it was a nice little bonding moment between just the two of us. I don't have a good memory so I don't recall how it went unfortunately...

Now, the climate is a little different. My sis tried out transmasculinity for maybe 5-6 years before feeling happier as a woman, my mom is trying to be Based and flaunt her Woke trans children, and my dad remembered "oh yeah trans natives have existed before colonization. Maybe me being transphobic is a product of my culture being erased" and has gotten better about calling me the right thing. I have a mustache (thanks pcos!!) and wear skirts and am not a repressed "tomboy" teenager anymore. But I can't help but wonder what would've happened if I could've been like shamura and just...been nonbinary without people being fucking weird about it. Or been born as a badass war god who will tear you to shreds before you can perceive my birth sex. I know they're fictional but they are my ultimate gender envy GRRRRR BARK BARK BARK

Here is the secret image for this post- I listen to mostly EDM when I draw cause it keeps the energy up, but as I was finishing up shamura's poetry part, I was like THESE ARE JUST KMFDM LYRICS so I made this

[callofdudes]

hi dude. I came with a new idea! How do Ghost, Konig, Roach, and Alex react to the reader doing the belly dance? It's like they saw it by chance. But it's not a vigorous oriental dance, Rather as if the reader is dancing lightly, in a white silk and long ankle-length oriental skirt, gracefully draping her waist from side to side.

It will be neither too long nor too short, can you write headcanons please?

Have a nice day 🌊

Here ya go @greenkiki sorry it took me so long 😅😅

König 🐙

Would either run away in terror at what he just saw thinking seeing something like that was completely illegal. Or he'd be dragged in and just sit there watching you with awe.

No in between.

He's just drawn into the way the skirt moves and your hips and how everything just flows together. It's amazing to him.

Belly dancing isn't terribly popular in Germany or Austria so it's one of the first times he's actually seen it in person. If he'd ever seen it at all.

He was surprised to learn you weren't in pain shifting your hips like that, even when it was slow.

He's a bit of a poetic and you can't tell me otherwise. This man has metaphors left and right for the way you dance and flow around like the breeze or the ocean. The way you look so calm and happy while you do so.

When you do show him fast, competitive belly dancing you scare him.

"See, it's like this. It's really easy-"

"Oh my gosh your hips- stop it stop! You'll break something!"

You laugh and keep doing it as König tries not to look but also looks because how can he not??

It's slightly horrifying, but in a good way. The way you can move like that is hypnotic and almost ensnares him into feeling his heart beat out of his chest while watching you.

But he definitely wants to keep watching. And you do. He's so drawn he'll sit on your bed and just watch you as you practice. Slow rhythmic dances. It really is... Amazing.

He absolutely loves watching you. I mean, he's just genuinely and purely infatuated with it.

And he's probably too nervous to ever speak it, but there is a tiny part of him, a part inside him that doesn't just want to sit there and watch you.

He wants to touch you, to feel the skirt on your waist and his hands on your warm hips as you dance around in his arms. Geez... this has unlocked new things inside him.

Roach 🪳

I bring you the world's best hype man. He'll clap and smile at you, his eyes twinkling and you can see his eyes scrunching a little.

When he first sees you, he's quiet enough that he can watch from the crack in your door. He is also intrigued, and just watching you. It's so interesting and it looks fun. He watches the way your hips move and how you look so happy and in the zone, it's pretty. Very pretty.

And in common Roach fashion if you're wearing a skirt with the little beads and shiny reflective disks, he's all over that. We been knew.

After you're finished the song Roach will burst into your room with happy clapping and some bsl clapping as well, bouncing around and looking at the outfit up close before you can even register the man is in your room.

"Roach?? Hey buddy, what- what did you see??" You were a little flustered he found you like that but Roach is all smiles. He flicks the little beads and feels how soft the skirt is.

And how you moved. Twirling his finger ad to excitedly ask you to do it again.

And he sits on your bed and watches you as you do. It's just so cool, and pretty.

"Do you like it?? When I do this?"

He nods, pointing to your belly button and poking it, making you blush again. "Well, thank you buddy."

He's hype man. Anywhere and everywhere, hype man. You must share these talents with the world.

He is always trying to get you to show him, to see if you can do it in regular clothes or your military gear. One time after a victory, he even tried to do some dance moves himself.

As you can imagine it didn't look that great. But he tried!

He's baby, but remember, even baby has a few secret thoughts of his own that he's... storing for later.

Ghost 💀

In the spirit of sharing your talents with the world, Roach has dragged you to his best friend in the whole world, who also shall appreciate your talents.

You're a little embarrassed to say the least when Ghost raises an eyebrow as Roach gets him to sit and points to you. In your outfit. Roach just... purely wants to share what you can do, and that is what truly makes your cheeks heat up.

And so you do, a little dance with some music on. Ghost acts completely disinterested, he doesn't look like he cares. There is a part of him that wants to reach out and touch those hips. A small inkling inside of him that wants to be behind you, to hold you and let you guide him around while you do... whatever heavenly thing you're doing right now.

There is nothing innocent about it. Roach wants to show him this and doesn't expect Ghost to take it in a whole new light.

After the fact he does run into you one time in your room when you're dancing. He can't help himself slipping into your room and running his hands just briefly, the tips of his gloved fingers over your skin.

"You are one intriguing gal, aren't you?"

You blush, your movements still, but Ghost gives you enough room to continue.

"Think you can teach me?"

"I think I possibly could."

Yeah, this man isn't going back. Sorry but there is new brain chemistry for him to consider. Especially since he's genuinely never seen a dance like this. In his entire life. Which is probably one of the reasons he's so attracted to it.

But hey, let's be honest, if it was anyone else, he'd still walk away.

Alex 🦿

Saw it but chance, and from every incident now on, sees it by choice 😤

Look at him, innocent man, walking to the barracks all alone when he hears this music. The music he's never heard coming from your room. Interesting, the song is kind of catchy. He was going to ask you about it when he approached your room and saw you.

Oh.

Oh.

He's not disrespectful but can you get any more beautiful?? He was barely hanging on to his resolve for these missions by threads and now there is nothing.

You look absolutely stunning. Genuinely how you move is beautiful and you look to be enjoying yourself a lot.

He doesn't have the courage to approach you, but he just stands there, watching you. He can't take his eyes off you.

Until the song stops and you turn around for some water, only to notice him... now to you it looks creepy because you can only see one half of his face.

"Alex?? What... are you doing there??"

"Huh? Me, I wasn't standing. Doing nothing. Nuh uh."

You scoff lightly. "I mean... you can come in, if You're not going to be weird about it."

"Me?? Weird??" He's already in your room with the permission. Sitting on your bed and getting comfy. "I am never weird..."

Ah, those next 30 minutes of watching you dance and be in your happy place is a blessing for him.

You're beautiful to him. He just absolutely loves the way you move, the way your body shifts. And he was a fool to think that he'd discovered everything there was to you.

[sassydefendorflower]

Fashion Worldbuilding in FMA:b

From a historical fashion standpoint, the fashion in FMA:b (and the manga) is all over the place, but since the 1914/1915 setting of Amestris is not actually linked to the real historical time period there is no need to apply rigid fashion rules to the worldbuilding. And yet, I think it is very interesting to explain the fashion of Amestris through a Watsonian lens.

And what better place to start with than the very a-historical skin-tight, skin-showing clothing of our teenage characters?

Winry is always dressed practically and job oriented (coveralls, gloves, something to tie her hair back with) and yet she’s also dressed like a typical modern teenager. Crop tops and short skirts are the norm for when Winry is doing everyday stuff outside of her workshop or extreme territories. She is by far not the only character that dresses like this - we see both Matel and Paninya in similarly tight and form-fitting outfits.

And the world around them doesn’t react to this excess of skin with disgust or outrage - their way of clothing seems to be the general norm, or at least pretty widespread and accepted. But if we look closer, it seems that this is only a societal norm for young people.

Most of the older women we meet, are dressed rather conservatively, with dresses and long skirts being the norm. Hair is most often drawn in a bun on older female characters, and the general dress shape seems to be late 19th century inspired.

In this crowd scene for example, we can see a handful of young women wearing pants with their hair open, while the majority of the women depicted seem to be wearing skirts, dresses, and aprons as befitting a working women, while others seems to have scarves wrapped around their shoulders as if out and about on a stroll through town.

Which would make sense. This would divide the expected “proper” way of dressing along the axis of age (and/or marital status), with the cut-off being somewhere in the mid- to late twenties. Characters like Riza Hawkeye, Matel, and Sheska play into this, as they are all more conservatively dressed as Winry, but do not yet follow stricter fashion rules as they seem to be common in older demographics.

In this scene Riza is wearing a skirt that covers her knees and a jacket that covers her neck and the entirety of her arms. We later see her dressed in different civilian clothes as well, with a white blouse, a pink cardigan, and comfortable loose pants. As such she is in a transitional phase of fashion, between the more loose and short styles of the youth and the more traditional cuts of the older generation.

Shezka is much the same, her blouse and typical turtleneck much more “grown up” than the clothes Winry and her age-mates wear, and yet the rest of her clothes have not yet reached the same level of “age”. Both of these characters are also unmarried, which could be another factor in the way they dress - historically speaking, expectations on dress were different between single women and those that were married, so there is a distinct possibility of the same being the case in the world of FMA.

Which brings us to another very interesting axis of analysis: how do jobs and fashion interact in Fullmetal Alchemist?

The way I see it Amestris is a country on the verge of changing. We see a noteworthy amount of female soldiers, but only one female General - so much so, that Sloth is ordered to kill “the” female General, because Olivier Mira Armstrong is the only woman in the upper brass. The other female soldiers we meet all have ranks up to First Lieutenant, but nothing above. There are no female State Alchemists. Most of the other professionals we meet are men.

It makes sense for Olivier to be the first female general based on her family history and the fact that she was probably an outstanding soldier - but it also highlights that the military as a structure has probably only allowed female soldiers for up to 30 to 40 years by the time we meet the Elrics and their world. And I see much of Amestris through that lens - most gender-based laws have probably been repelled by now, but the society at large still remembers a much more divided structure. This is reflected in the fashion, of course.

In a country that has only recently changed its views on which professional fields should be open to all genders, the divide between the fashion rules for those that remember more rigid structures and those that grew up without certain assumptions is growing. Societal standards are slow to change, but they do reflect the opinions of the general public - or at least the rules and traditions people tend to cling to. 

Let’s take Gracia for example. While the hemline in general seems to be rising in all age demographics (except the elderly, while staying relatively conservative in older demographics and - hypothetically - married women) Gracia dresses less form-fitting than other women in her age range (Riza Hawkeye, Rebecca Catalina). She is generally dressed more “proper”, even later on when we see her wearing skirts that end above the knee. What I really find interesting though is the comparison to her younger self - roughly eight years younger, as this is a picture from the end of the Ishval War. Even though she is probably about twenty to twenty-three in this picture, she is dressed a lot more conservative than all the other female characters we have met in that age range so far. This can have multiple reasons. Maybe Gracia is from a more conservative, rich family that favors more traditional style of dress - or we can see the rabid change in society in just eight years.

Again, Amestris as a society in the middle of extreme social change.

We can even see it in the military uniforms. Female soldiers in active duty wear the same clothes as their male counterparts.

(including the butt-cape)

But what we see multiple times is other female officers employed at Central Command (or other military headquarters) wearing a different uniform - with a much shorter skirt (tho a longer skirt option seems to be available, as we also see female soldiers wearing skirts that cover the knees).

This could imply two things: a) the longer skirts were the normal uniform for female employees of the military not cleared for active duty, and only recently shorter skirts became a part of the uniform as a reaction to the changing fashion landscape or b) the shorter skirts existed for longer as some sort of sexist tool of the upper brass to demean their female employees.

For the sake of our current worldbuilding, let’s go with Option A).

Again, the general hemline seems to be rising - in a way, it wouldn’t even be historically unheard off. In the 1920s the female silhouette changed so much in young, city-dwelling circles that you might even see the occasional knee peak out from under a skirt - Amestris could be experiencing a similar change in fashionable dress.

There is one other thing I want to mention while I’m at it: the influences of other cultures on Amestrian culture and fashion.

Amestris is an imperial power, and while that means that it has a very strong national identity on the one hand, we can also see how it has adapted other cultural influences in its daily life. While the wearing of traditional Ishvalen clothing is probably demonized and a sure way to get othered, influenced from other nations Amestris is war-ing with can be found.

Xing-style clothing seems to be pretty common, and if anything it seems to be a sign of status to be able to afford clothes from Xing.

We see Mrs. Bradley were Xing-style clothing multiple times throughout the show, and it always seems to be something a lady of good standing can do without consequences. This implies a certain level of cultural trade and exchange between the two countries, especially once you consider that Xingese features seem to be common enough in Amestris that Ling always has to mention his status as a foreigner since his appearance alone would not give it away.

(And the fact that all Lan Fan and Fu had to do to go undercover was exchange their Xingese dress for classical Amestrian clothing and suddenly they could disappear in a crowd without a problem)

And this bit of decor in General Grumman’s office? This also implies some sort of cultural influences from Drachma.

There is also the fact that class probably does play a role in the way people dress, with people from Rush Valley, a certified weird town full of weird people, dressing more wild, with less need for social conventions in a place like that. And people from the countryside favoring practicality over fashion, and much of the women we see there wearing loose dresses and aprons, which makes sense. At the same time, what little we see of the Armstrong family, they seem to favor a more conservative style of dress, even at a younger age.

Which makes sense - fashion is influenced by a lot of different factors, class, age, gender, gender representation, work and cultural influences all making a difference.

And just as an aside - while this post mostly discusses women’s fashion in FMA:b, I think it applies to men’s fashion as well. At least to a certain degree. While most men are much more uniformly dressed in “old-timey” clothing, the current shift seems to be happening when it comes to wearing hats.

And I also think teenage boys are less tied to the fashion expectations of their time - Edward for example dresses very modernly and weird. BUT and - this is very interesting - his sense of fashion is constantly considered as outside of the norm. Part of his Growing-Up Arc is starting to wear the clothes society expects him to wear... which means that while women’s fashion is rapidly changing, men’s fashion is still rather strict in comparison, with breaking of the rules being perceived as socially “punishable” in comparison.

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

Hmm so what about mommy Wanda coming home after a long and stressful day. She’s spent the entire time in meetings at the compound receiving very explicit text messages from you and very revealing photos. Her patience wearing thin. As soon as she gets home she’s forcing you to the ground and making you please her until she’s satisfied. Then lets you cockwarm her enchanted strap as a mini award while she works on reports that she couldn’t finish because you were being such a slut for her. She doesn’t let you cum that night but she lets you cockwarm her while going to sleep. You wake up in the morning to her still inside you and admiring your restful face. As soon as she notices you’re awake she covers your face in kisses. As she’s kissing you she unintentionally moves inside you causing you to let out a soft moan. She takes that as a sign to start teasing you and rocking gently into you. She gently pushes you onto your back so she can go a little faster. You can start to feel your much needed release rise and you know that Wanda is close too. You grasp onto her back desperately right as she cums. She she pulls out and makes you suck her clean and then tells you she has to go back to the compound for more meeting. She leaves you there soaked with a kiss to your cheek and the soft whisper to make it up to you tonight.

yesssss, reader lovesssss testing wanda. also edging as a punishment??!! top tier for sure.

as soon as she gets home, her eyebrows drawn and underwear damp, she sees your smirking face peeking out from your spot on the couch. at the mere sight of you sprawled out casually in only her sweater, she can't stop herself from grabbing your neck and forcing you to your knees. sitting down where you had just been on the couch, she spreads her legs as she pulls her skirt up, her hand firmly tangled in your hair as she brings your face closer to her.

"you've made mommy very upset, sweetheart. you know how much i hate teasing, it's almost as if you're begging to be punished." and when you let out a soft moan at her words, she knows she's right. taking no mercy on you, she practically shoves your head against her core, grinding softly on your face as she's finally releasing some of the pent up tension she's had since the first text message she received from you. you do your best, your tongue lapping up her arousal as she comes, not stopping even when your jaw starts to ache. by the third time wanda orgasms, you feel tears welling up at the tight hold she still has on your hair, your neck tightening from the awkward kneeling position you're in.

"did you think mommy was going to go easy on you? punishments aren't fun, darling. and i really don't like doing this, but how else will you learn your lesson?" wanda is unforgiving, holding your face against her as she comes two more times, before she pulls you up by the neck and drags you towards the bedroom.

you think she's finally going to fuck you when she walks over the the closet, grabbing her favorite strap on. you wait, not protesting when she leads you to her office, and sitting down on her strap with no resistance, your arousal leaking onto her thighs as she powers on her computer. "you're going to sit here and be quiet, like a good little slut. alright? a single sound or movement out of you and mommy won't touch you for a week."

you want to cry at the thought, but you stay still, every muscle in your body shaking as you tense up. wanda softly rubs circles into your thigh as she types with one hand, the movement letting you know that she's only punishing you for your behavior, not because she's actually mad at you.

after an excruciating half hour, your eyes have glazed over and your head is resting on her shoulder. she allowed the movement, saying, "i know my baby is tired, just a few more minutes and mommy will be done. you're taking me so well, honey."

then, finally she brings you to bed, carrying you with the strap still buried deep inside your pussy. you wake up immediately, your eyes hopeful as wanda laughs. "oh, sweetheart. did you think you were getting fucked tonight? no darling, you made mommy wait all fucking day, so now you get to wait all night."

you go to bed drenched, your pussy squeezing around her strap as she holds you close.

waking up the next morning, you're surprised to see her green eyes already open, her face soft as she smiles gently. you smile back, leaning forward to kiss her, your arms wrapping around her shoulders. that's when you feel it, and all the memories of the night before come rushing back in an instant. her strap is still buried in you, and you rock your hips slightly.

bad mistake.

the low simmering arousal that had been festering all night, returned with a vengeance. it swept through you, and you could have sobbed when wanda started moving, her hips purposeful as she slowly thrusts into you. you can barely think, the only thing on your mind being your orgasm.

wanda can tell that you're close, and she feels her own orgasm rising as she watches your face scrunch up and feels your hips attempting to rock against her. she rolls the two of you over until your back is against the mattress, and pins your hands against the pillow.

"go on, sweetheart. come as much as you'd like. mommy's sorry she made you wait all night but i think you've learned your lesson now, haven't you?" you nod frantically, your eyes wide and hopeful as she begins fucking into you earnestly. your nails dig into her back, your pussy over sensitive from cock warming her all night, and wanda comes instantly at the sensation. her hips stutter and jerks against your, pressing against your clit perfectly, and you come right after her, your moans filling the room as she brings you down from your high.

you're absolutely devastated when she pulls out, feeling empty and definitely unsatisfied. she presses the strap against your lips, and you immediately stick out your tongue and clean her off, your juices dripping down the soft skin of your inner thigh as you do so. even sucking her off doesn't fully sate your hunger. wanda just smiles at you, her eyes glinting as she urges you out of bed, kissing you softly before saying, "mommy has to go back for a few more meetings. if you behave yourself, i'll reward you tonight by letting you come as many times as you want, however you want."

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

I don't mean to be mean or rude but there were these people in my class who were wearing like REALLY revealing clothes and I've gotten an idea: How would yandere class 1A react to the reader who's usually an introvert suddenly wearing really revealing clothing since she wants to be noticed and doesn't want to be viewed as an introvert anymore? Tbh, this is actually what I'm thinking rn... it's like if I want to be noticed in my college these days, that's the step I'll have to take but I don't feel comfortable wearing such revealing clothes

~#~#~#~ Just a happy reminder that everyone is allowed to wear whatever they want, whenever they want! You can wear t-shirts, sweatpants, miniskirts, high heels, platforms, formal dresses, boxers, thongs; you can even walk around naked! I wouldn't recommend being fully nude outside, but you do you. Anyways, clothes don't determine who you are or what you identify as! ~#~#~#~

Also, I know you wrote Reader in your ask as female identifying (she/her), but I am going to continue writing them as gender neutral! Let me know if you have a problem with that.

✩࿐ Let's go! ✩࿐

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So, for starters, let's talk about the school days. Since the uniforms are pretty standard, it's a little hard to spruce them up to be "skimpier". If you choose to wear the women's uniform, you could pull up the skirt further up your hips so the hem brushes the tops of your thighs. Could even doll yourself up with a few accessories in your hair, on the clothes, or even some jewelry. If you choose to wear the men's uniform, you could pull a Bakugo by not wearing the tie or unbutton the top few buttons of your uniform. Show a little cleavage (both pecs and boobs can have cleavage. I don't discriminate between cleavage; all types are delicious 🤤). Paint your nails, wear some makeup; anything you can really!

Now, since most of the class keeps a close eye on you 24/7, they're gonna notice every little thing you do to yourself. From the way you wear your hair, to the shoes you skip down the halls in, to the exact scents you use for your shampoo and body sprays; nothing is secret to them. So, when they notice for the first time that your skirt's riding a little higher than normal, or they're getting a face full of your pec cleavage, their minds are flying all over the place. Everyone is going to have their eyes unconsciously drift to you every so often, or they're on you all the time.

Izuku and Uraraka are just blushing up a storm. Deku cannot stop looking at you—or, rather, your exposed skin. He swears he doesn't mean to be a pervert! You just look...so soft. It's killing him. He just wants to nuzzle up to you and forget the school day all together. When you try to talk to him throughout the day, he's just a ball of stutters, nervous giggles, and never-ending mumbles. But as soon as you turn your back, he is writing in his notebook, scribbling outfits that show the same amount (or even more) skin you're showing now that he believes you would look ethereal in. He also cannot stop writing things along the lines of 'They look so cute.', 'I can't look at them again! It's too much!', and 'How can I tell them how I feel when seeing them like this makes me forget my words?'

Ochaco's no better. She can't stop thinking about how sweet your thighs look. And how when you sit down, your skirt rides even higher up. You're such a little tease, can you even fathom what you're doing to her?! She's losing her mind; she's practically two seconds away from getting down on one knee and proposing to you right now. She's sighing in a puppy love manor, writing her name and your name together in the last page of her notebook. She's drawing little stick figures that are supposed to be you and her kissing, holding hands, hugging, basically doing everything together. Hearts and sparkles drawn in a pink glittery gel pen are everywhere on the page of art she has dedicated to you.

Some people are a little more uptight than others COUGH COUGH Iida COUGH COUGH and are gonna hound you throughout the day. The second you walk into the class, he is all over you. Iida's stuttering something about fixing your attire, something about how you are in a professional academy and you can't walk around looking like that and blah blah blah. Everything that is coming out of his mouth is just a flimsy coverup to try and hide the rapidly spreading blush seeping across his cheeks. How can you do this to him?!?! As the class president, he is ashamed of how he can't stop his eyes from drifting all across your body, but he can't stop. He desperately tries to focus on your adorable face, but he doesn't know how much longer he can keep up the façade of being a proper gentleman.

His commotion to your attire draws the attention of the rest of your friends. The room is then split between a mixture of squeals and yelling, and dead silence.

Across the class, Todoroki is falls quieter than usual. It's unnerving, he's acting like how he was the first few weeks of class, aloof and unapproachable. On the outside, he doesn't show much (what's new), but on the inside it's simultaneously a raging typhoon and a fervent volcanic eruption all at once. He feels his body heat up to a scorchingly dangerous level, and drop to a frost-biting chill in a matter of seconds. Shoto's poor brain can't wrap around what he's seeing. His darling, his everything, is fully on display (you are nowhere near that level, you're just showing a tiny amount more of skin LOL) for his eyes to see. It's like he's reached nirvana. He feels all warm and fuzzy inside, though his outside is still a staggering contrast of temperatures.

Bakugo cannot decide whether to be angry at you or angry at his idiot classmates. As he finally breaks his gaze from you, he watches the class's faces shift into hunger and desire and he decides. Yep. He's angrier at them than he is at you. But he understands where their desire is coming from. He's in the same sinking boat. He wants to look at your forever; say 'fuck it' to the lessons that day, scoop you into his arms, and run back to the dorms to hide you away for only him to see. He feels his palms heat up and leak sweat like a faucet from both the anxiety of how gorgeous you look and from the aggression of wanting to beat everyone around him into pulps for daring to peek at what’s his. He yells at everyone to stop their clamoring, shoving his face down to stare at the desk instead of your fucking cute nervous expression.

Kirishima is slack-jawed, heart-eyed. The real life combination of these two emojis: 😳😍. He's literally dying to feel how soft your skin is as he scans your body over and over again. It's like a song on repeat in his mind, encouraging his eyes to soak up as much of you as he can, forcing him to do it all over again multiple times. He feels like a cringy and awkward middle schooler seeing the contents of a pervy magazine, or a semi-naked person, for the first time. Then, it hits him. Kirishima isn't alone in seeing this newfound expanse of your body. As soon as that registers in his mind, he flips on a 180° and wants nothing more than to pull your skirt down or button your shirt himself. He wants to protect you from the disgusting eyes gaping at you. Kirishima snaps his jaw closed and bites his lip to keep in the growl forming at the back of his throat. His mind calculates all the people witnessing your beauty. He thinks he wants this image all to himself.

Denki, Sero, and Mina are panting like freaking dogs. They are eating up how you dressed today. Denki is privately thanking whatever god influenced you to dress yourself in this way today. Mina is squealing inside and out, thinking about how she feels like she's the main character in one of those romance manga she reads and how you're dressing like that to catch her attention alone (you’re not, but her theory is what she chooses to believe). Sero can't stop grinning all day because of how sweet you are, dressing in that manor to steal his attention (again, you’re not, but oh well). The two boys might even try to sneak a picture of you, but Mina quickly shuts that behavior down and makes them delete the photos thank goodness for our girlboss.

Tsu, Momo, Jiro, and Hagakure all cannot work up the courage to say how absolutely alluring you look today. Maybe they'll say it in flippant passing, but they cannot put into words how you truly make them feel. They’re antsy and nervously giggling all day whenever you get close, so much so that you think they have a fever. They’re just flustered because you’re stunning. Please don’t take their lack of words negatively! They’re obsessed with you, and that possessiveness clouds their better judgement at times. Secretly, they’re all planning how to successfully sneak into your dorm room and steal an item of your clothes to keep. Tsu and Hagakure are not known as the leading stealth heroes of Class 1-A for nothing~.

✩࿐

At first, they all thought it was an accident. Maybe you were just a little clumsy dressing yourself this morning! Maybe you're overly stressed and didn't even notice that you're showing more of yourself than you ever have! Yeah, that has to be it.

They only get concerned when you start to dress like this outside of school as well. Don't get them wrong, you look incredible (all of them are constantly drooling at the sight of the amount of skin you are showing off. They want to stroke, caress, pinch, and even bite every bit of it.), but they are worried. Ever since they first met you, you'd been so shy and reserved, so, why are you dressing so provocatively now?

Short skirts, crop tops, low cut shirts, everything under the sun that showed a little more and more was what you suddenly exclusively wore. Again, they know you can wear whatever you want to wear, but what happened to their shy (Y/N)?

A few of the girls sit down with you one day and have a chat about your shift in attire. You explain your dilemma to them, and they resonate with your change in demeanor. It's hard being labeled as one thing, and when you try to branch out to try something different, you’re looked at strangely. The change you choose to make my not be acknowledged in a positive light. They reassure you that they all love the style you're trying out, and how you look to die for, but you do not have to completely change who you are for anyone else.

Being comfortable in your own skin correlates with the clothes you wear that make you feel the most, well, you! If dressing in thinner, smaller fabric is what you enjoy now, then go right ahead! If you find that the former isn't working for you anymore, and you wish to dress in baggier, less attention-catching clothes, rock on. Whatever you wear, they will support you the best they can.

Though, that doesn't stop them from lashing out at creeps who stare at you for a bit too long~

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WHEEW. DAMN! I hope you guys like it. To the asker, I hope I fulfilled what you were looking for! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you have a wonderful day! :)

[axigailxo]

Pretty Like You | PJM (1)

part one: mini-skirts and big problems

— in which park jimin desires nothing more than to be pretty like you.

series summary. where jimin is jealous of the beauty that is you, writes about it, and falls apart when you accidentally read it.

pairing. feminine!jimin x reader

rating. M | 18+ |

genre. enemies to lovers, feminine!jimin, self hatred au, slight identity crisis, self love journey, eventual smut, sub!jimin, angst, fluff, heartfelt

w.c. 4.2k

warnings. heavy descriptions of self hate and self abuse later into the story, please be advised

ch summary. an introduction into the crumbling life of park jimin and his cat, daisy.

**this is part 1 of my new series pretty like you, not a stand-alone

series masterlist | next->

It’s horrendous.

Implausible, even.

No human being should’ve looked that good on a Monday. But of course, like always, you did. You always do.

Jimin has drawn the conclusion that there’s no way you’re naturally that stunning and you go the extra mile to get ready every morning. And he thinks it’s ridiculous. It’s ridiculous that you’d get up an extra hour or two earlier just to show up to a class that only lasts a little over an hour where you’re just sat behind a desk the whole time.

But then again, Jimin appreciates your attire. So much so that he was able to memorize it from this morning’s lecture.

A dainty black miniskirt with a cami and cardigan that Jimin may or may not have a replica of, and the sheerest shade of pantyhose to really capture that sex appeal you love. Jimin has noticed, by now, that you try to add at least one sexy article to every single outfit you wear. Jimin notices, and Jimin hates it.

He hates that you can dress sexily without the fear of being judged, whereas for Jimin, it’s not so easy.

Tossing another cropped tee into the mountain of clothes piling on the floor, Jimin’s huff is quick to turn into something of a strangled cry as he collapses to the ground, back against the side of his bed.

As if on cue, a furry figure of a cat peaks into the doorframe, walking in proudly like it owns the place. At this rate, it does considering it’s always there to ease Jimin during these troubling times.

Daisy takes care of Jimin, and on occasion, it’s the other way around.

Daisy, Jimin’s calico cat, nudges her soft head against his arm that’s lazily slumped down, encouraging him to pet her. When he does, her purrs rev up like an engine and the small gesture is enough to steal a slight twitch of a smile from the man.

However, it doesn’t stop the oncoming sob.

Tears fresh and emotion at its highest, Jimin stays sat on the ground wearing nothing but the repulsive baggy sweatpants that he forced himself to wear only because it’s better to pretend he likes dressing that way than wearing what he actually likes and getting judged.

Jimin, believe it or not, is a coward. His words. He hates that he can’t just put the damn skirt on. He hates how he can’t bring himself to leave his apartment in that cute cropped tee that he bought ages ago and still has never worn.

He hates how he’s such a pussy when it comes to this.

But it’s not just skepticism. Jimin knows there’s not a lot of nice people out there, especially not at his college campus. Don’t get Jimin started on all the homophobic and pitiful words that frat boys have thrown at him so far in the span of his first year. And that was when he was wearing his clothes that he believed were seven sizes too big and awfully plain.

His “boy” clothes.

Jimin knows that in today’s society, you’re labeled. Weather you want to be or not, every passing stranger is going to label you as what they see. And with said frat boys, the ones with a single brain cell, if they ever saw Jimin wearing the clothes that he has piled in front of him— he’d fit their accusations.

Jimin was raised by only his mother, who was raised by only her mother and a sister. Jimin has had absolutely no male figure in his life so it’s not bizarre that his demeanor is more feminine than most men.

But people at school aren’t so smart, or nice. Therefore, Jimin isn’t just a boy who was raised by a woman, to them— he was just gay. Jimin hates how his demeanor is what chooses his sexuality. Because, contrary to those frat boys’ belief, Jimin is straight.

He may not know a lot about himself at the ripe age of 21, but he knows for sure that he’s not into men. Being a teen and liking things that the world tells you is for girls definitely made Jimin question his own sexuality time to time, but after a couple nights out at a gay bar and a two extremely awkward hookups, Jimin knew men weren’t up his alley. Especially not when the thought of women is what gets him off every single time.

He just wants to wear a damn skirt and have a girlfriend, is that really so much to ask for?

Daisy was able to sneak her way onto Jimin’s lap, already half asleep despite Jimin’s occasional jolts when he sniffles for air.

“Thank you Daisy,” he whispers, his fading cry turning into a soft giggle when the feline looks up at him, eyes glinting with a look that Jimin knows by now.

“Or are you just being nice to me because you’re hungry?”

Daisy continues to nudge her head against his chest, confirming his accusation and enticing Jimin’s first real giggle.

“Okay,” Jimin says in an exhale, more in an attempt to get ahold of himself. “Fine, let’s get you some food.”

The cat happily jumps off Jimin’s lap at the invitation, hurriedly exiting the bedroom and scurrying off to the kitchen before Jimin can even make it off the ground. When he does, he nearly trips on the mound of hopeless clothes, eyeing it over before trailing his vision to the standing mirror.

His eyes scan over his chest, down to his waist, and to his hips. He loves his shape, loves the way women’s clothing looks on him. It’s too bad no one will be able to appreciate it the way he does, though. It’s too bad he can’t show it off like he so badly wishes to.

Like how you do.

You get to dress in fitted clothing and show off your shape without an intense fear of getting judged or labeled. Jimin despises how blind you are to that advantage. He despises how badly he wishes he could be you for even a day.

Because for Jimin, he has to hide. Whereas for you, you’re allowed to be beautiful whenever you want.

Even on Mondays.

“What do you think, Daisy? Be honest.”

Peeling his eyes away from his reflection, he twists to show Daisy, who’s freshly awake from a nap, his outfit that he’s in love with.

A grumpy meow is all he gets before her eyes slowly shut again and Jimin scoffs in offense.

“Whatever, you just don’t have taste.”

Turning to face himself again, he bites back a smile as he snaps yet another mirror pic of himself, halting midway as he adjusts himself to sit on his knees. And it’s when the miniskirt rises up his thigh that he gets an idea.

Thigh highs.

A subtle gasp of excitement escapes the boy as he recklessly tosses his phone onto the bed— completely missing which makes him flinch in startle in response to the thud that followed. Navigating to his dresser, he ignores Daisy who clearly did not appreciate the sudden noise, and begins to dig in his scandalous drawer for the thigh high socks.

And yes, Jimin has something he calls his scandalous drawer. It’s for moments like these where he wants to add sex appeal to his outfit.

Kind of like how you do.

“There you are,” he murmurs under his breath as he takes hold of the long white fabrics. He doesn’t wait until he’s back in front of the mirror to put them on, sitting on the edge of his bed and hurriedly slipping the thigh high socks on.

Jimin just knows he looks good. He can feel it. He feels sexy, and he hasn’t even looked in the mirror yet. A miniskirt paired with thigh high socks and an open cardigan— no shirt.

And fuck does he feel good in it.

Not able to wait any longer he tiptoes to the mirror until he’s met with the figure he wishes the world could see.

Jimin loves his appearance, a lot. It’s just that the version he loves is only seen on rare occasions like this where he spontaneously decides to try his risky outfits on. No one else can or will see this version, and for that, Jimin’s self love is private. Almost invisible given how little he lets himself see it.

“Good call on the thigh highs,” he mumbles to himself, staring a little longer until he starts to notice all the imperfections. When he does, he’s quick to step away, landing himself back first onto his unmade bed that Daisy was way too content in.

“Move it, there’s room for both of us,” he tells her as she mopes over to the opposite side.

One hand behind his head, other on his stomach— toying with the ruffled hem of the skirt, Jimin stares at the ceiling as his nightly dose of thoughts kick in. And tonight, all he can really think about is how badly he wishes someone could see him. And if he’s lucky enough, earn a compliment or two. Maybe, if his luck was good, he’d be called pretty if someone saw him dressed like this.

But his luck has never been good.

It was his poor luck that made him be born into a rude and strict society. And he hates that. But what can he do? He’s just a person in this big world. He doesn’t believe his voice is loud enough for change. And even if it were, he’d still be too much of a coward to try.

It’s all one big tangled problem that he’s trapped in.

He’s only a freshman in college and he feels like the world is ending.

But does yours? Jimin wonders. For a long moment or two he ponders if you sometimes feel that way too. Of course it wouldn’t be for the same reason as him, but could there be something that weighs you down?

And if so, how the fuck do you mask it so easily with that bright smile of yours?

Maybe because you’re perfect, Jimin thinks.

So perfect that Jimin is laying on his bed wearing an outfit almost identical to the one you wore today all only because he thought it looked great on you. He wanted to feel great too.

He wanted to feel the way you probably do in such fragile clothing. Leaving absolutely nothing to imagination because that’s how brave you are. Jimin envies that. He wants that.

Bravery, of course— not you.

He wants to be brave enough to show some skin and go the whole day feeling good. Feeling confident and relieved. But that day won’t come, unfortunately. All he has is the privacy of his apartment to feel brave in these clothes.

But even when Jimin is hard on himself, that doesn’t stop him from wanting to just feel good sometimes.

And there’s no better way than this.

Somehow in the mix of his thought spiral his small fingers managed to drag his skirt up the length of his thigh, cold air traveling straight to his exposed tip.

He knew he wasn’t wearing underwear. He did that on purpose. Again, he wanted to feel good.

He wanted to feel sexy.

His fingers slide their way across his left thigh, getting higher and higher until his breathing is hitched and his bottom lip is raw.

But then he stops himself.

Quickly adjusting the skirt, he sits up with a sharp breath.

What was that?

It’s one thing to touch himself, he always does— everyone does. But he will not do such a thing with you fresh in mind. You already have some power over him. He won’t give you this as well. And It doesn’t matter if you know about it or not because he always will.

He already hates that he envies you so much, he will not envy you like this too.

You’re just an annoying, perfect, confident girl who has no idea how lucky she is. Jimin doesn’t envy that part. He just envies your fashion sense. That’s it.

All he needs is some sleep.

Hopefully when he wakes up, not only will his hard on be gone but so will you. Not a single thought of you will be in his mind from this point forward, Jimin declares to himself.

Let’s just hope you don’t find your way into his dreams.

Like always.

“Nice jacket.”

“You’re not funny.”

A subtle laugh escapes the man, playfully nudging Jimin which causes him to almost fall off the bench.

“Taehyung!” Jimin whines as he regains his balance on the tiny seat, crashing his hips into his friend’s on a mission to knock him down too.

He fails, earning another mischievous laugh from the man.

“Sorry. Now what were you saying you had to tell me?”

Sat in a corner table with Jimin’s one and only friend in their favorite campus cafe, Jimin sets his bag on the table and turns to face him.

“Hello to you too,” he scolds.

A boxy smile is given and before he can greet the fed up boy back he’s already talking.

“Last night,” Jimin begins, brows furrowed in half embarrassment half concentration. “Something weird happened.”

“Did Daisy catch you jerki—“

“Tae!” Jimin cuts him off in a whisper-shout, hoping no bystanders hear his unfiltered words.

“Joking. What happened last night?”

Jimin sighs as he tries to find his thoughts again. He had it all organized in his mind but his friend’s reckless banter has made it all the more scrambled and confusing.

To put it simply, Jimin doesn’t know how to tell his best friend that he thinks his crush made him hard last night.

Ah, yes. Kim Taehyung. His and Jimin’s friendship goes all the way back to freshman year of high school, also known as Jimin’s worse year ever. Endless bullying and his identity crisis at its peak, Jimin was so done with everyone and everything. That’s until one of the most popular boys in school took him under his wing.

Taehyung has been Jimin’s shield for almost five years now, defending him from every derogatory slur and glare from arrogant frat boys. And being a frat boy himself, Taehyung had most, if not all of those arrogant asshole’s respect. And with that being the case, they’d never disrespect Jimin in front of Taehyung.

And it’s nice having at least one friend to help him out, Jimin thinks.

The only underside is that his one friend has no clue about his secret and God only knows if he’d still accept Jimin if he did. And that he’s in the fraternity for fucks sake.

Also that he has a massive crush on you.

That may or may not be another reason Jimin doesn’t like you so much. You have the whole school wrapped around your finger, and unfortunately for Jimin, that includes his best friend.

“Hello? Earth to Jimin,” Taehyung tries to get the older boy’s attention.

Blinking himself back to space, he shakes his head as he discards where he was going with the conversation.

“I forgot.”

“Bullshit.”

“I did,” Jimin rolls his eye, snatching Taehyung’s coffee and taking an obnoxiously big sip to shift the attention away from what he originally had to say.

Taehyung doesn’t believe him, but he respects Jimin enough to not pry.

“Whatever. Just know you can tell me anything.”

“Yeah yeah,” Jimin shakes off.

And he knows that. Taehyung may be friends with all of those terrible guys who’ve made Jimin’s life hell, but he’s still good to him. Believe it or not Jimin has had many other issues that weren’t about his secret, and with each one Taehyung was the one who provided him a shoulder to cry on.

They’re close enough to joke about all the things Jimin gets bullied for. Like his jacket for example, it’s the same one he wears probably three days out of the week. It’s big and ugly but Jimin thinks it’s boyish so he wears it. Anything to hide. The frat boys still give him shit for it, though. But Taehyung loves it, and he thinks the hate it gets is so ridiculous that he himself teases Jimin about it occasionally. And Jimin finds it funny when it’s Taehyung who teases him, because he knows it’s coming from a place of close friendship. Unlike those other frat boys.

But despite how close they are, he knows he can’t talk about his secret, or you with Taehyung. That’s the one part of him he’d like to keep tucked away for as long as he can endure.

“Alright, well I’m gonna get going. I told Johnny I’d meet him at the dorms so we can get a session in before class.”

“Smoking is bad for you,” says Jimin as he rolls his eyes.

“So is sulking, lift your head up Minnie,” Taehyung massages at Jimin’s shoulder for a second or two before he gets up and grabs his stuff.

“I’m not sulking.”

“You’re always sulking,” The younger man teases as Jimin swats his hand off of his shoulder. “We’ll talk later?”

Jimin hums in what Taehyung assumes is agreement, ruffling his hair before making his way over to the door of the cafe. A grumpy Jimin is left behind fixing his hair, gathering his stuff too so he can head to class early.

Nothing beats the stares he gets as many students still, to this day, wonder how on Earth Taehyung is friends with him. It’s fucked up, really, but Jimin is used to it.

He’s used to favoritism in the school, and Jimin groans as he realizes he’ll be seeing more of it for the next hour or so that he’ll be seeing you in class.

But he can’t seem to figure out if he’s more excited to see you than he is annoyed.

Jimin is furious.

Nothing new, except that this feeling of anger isn’t rooted from jealousy or insecurity— It’s because you rejected his kindness.

Jimin, like many, were eyeing your outfit. It’s dainty and may even be the prettiest shade of baby blue Jimin has ever seen. So when he forced himself to smile your way when you caught him staring, he did not expect an eye roll from you. But nonetheless, it happened, and Jimin hates you a little bit more now.

Jaw clenched and eyes piercing lasers into the big clock on the far wall of the lecture hall, Jimin counts down the seconds until he’s able to free himself from this torturous environment. Until he frees himself from you.

When the clock does hit the desired time, he’s the only student to stand up— earning him several stares which only makes him angrier, and with little to no more patience left he’s walking out the doors on a mission to channel this frustration.

Past the corridor and straight to the art room— also known as the room that’s almost always empty because why is there an art class in a writing school in the first place— Jimin slams his bag down on the first desk he sees and sits himself down.

Why couldn’t you prove him wrong?

Why couldn’t you just have smiled back?

You just had to roll your eyes when Jimin didn’t even like you in the first place. If he had it his way he would’ve snapped profanities the moment your eyes met. But he’s not a monster. He’s polite.

So polite that he smiled your way and now regrets it miserably.

Jimin can’t stand you now.

Grabbing a random notebook from his bag, he does what any angry writing major would do and begins to jot down all the many reasons he hates you, all in the form of scattered thoughts.

Conceited.

Privileged.

Spoiled.

All words that are used quite frequently in his paragraph of scribbled rage.

Beautiful.

Unique.

Mesmerizing.

All words that he hates to admit but must include because they’re the reason he hates you like he does.

Jimin goes on and on for a while writing nothing but blunt absurdities that are simple and cuts straight to the point, majority of them being repetitive I hate you’s. It’s not until he finds himself at the peak of frustration that it all boils down to an ache within him.

Jimin thinks about why you anger him so much. He thinks about that outfit he could’ve worn today if only he wasn’t so scared. Then, Jimin writes down every raw, painful feeling he has.

Why do you have to be so beautiful? Why can’t I be like you? I often wonder if you think about my predicament. I wonder if it ever crosses your mind that I’m even one percent envious of you. When I think about that, it hurts even more.

I wish you knew I was hurting because of you.

You don’t know me well. I hardly know you. But what I’m certain of is that you’re the most beautifully ignorant person I’ve ever come across and I do hope one day you’ll realize how blind you are.

You’re blind to your reality of easiness. It’s not easy for me. I can’t wear that shade that you do. Can’t wear a shirt so low cut like that either. Because for me, I’m expected to dress like someone I’m not.

This isn’t me.

And I think I may hate you most because I see the real me in you. That courageous being who doesn’t even think twice about breaking the rules of my gender; that’s the real me. Although I hate both versions of me because neither of them have helped me out of this suffocating barrier.

I want to be me.

I wish you weren’t you.

I want to be you.

A slam of a period is what concludes the built up momentum, pencil flying across the desk as he slouches back in his chair with an exhale. He skims over the words that are quite dark since he was applying significant pressure. He vaguely reads some words until he’s not in the mood to think about any of it anymore and closes the journal shut.

And although he didn’t reread that essay of his, the last sentence still can’t seem to leave his mind.

Even if it’s just for a moment, he wants to be you.

Racing down the long hall of the unnecessarily large school, his strides echo off the walls as his heartbeat is ten steps ahead of him.

He should’ve never written that journal, he thinks.

He should’ve never left it in class either.

The passing of two more doors is all it took until he was standing out of breath in the threshold of what he hoped would be an empty classroom, the journal that he was going to grab and go no longer being in the spot he had left it.

His heartbeat almost fails him, legs buckling as his thoughts falter.

He knows it’s you. He knows your figure. He also knows that you’re standing there, reading his journal full of absurd remarks about how he wishes he were you.

Jimin wants to die. He wants it all to just dissipate. But before the boy can erase what he just walked in on, you turn around.

Journal open in your hand, your eyebrows are furrowed and Jimin doesn’t know if he can withstand that look of genuine concern on your face.

He also doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad look.

“I’m not gay,” he helplessly throws his panicked words up.

Slightly less confident, having used up all his energy on those three words, he manages to follow up, “…if that’s what you’re thinking.”

And the giggle that escapes you despite what you just read, the cruel things he wrote about you even though you did absolutely nothing but be beautiful, Jimin notes how badly he’s fucked up.

“It’s not,” you respond, slowly closing the journal, eyes following.

It’s while you’re still looking down that you decide to ask your first question.

“Listen, Jimin,” you bring your eyes up, tone a little too concerned for his liking. “Do you want to talk?”

Talk.

“Those things you wrote, it’s just—“ you stop yourself. “I know you didn’t mean for anyone to read it but from what I saw I think you need someone to help you learn to be kinder to yourself.”

Jimin opens his mouth to talk only to close it when he realizes he doesn’t know how to respond.

“I know it’s none of my business and I’m sorry for reading, but I don’t want you to feel like that. Let me help you.”

Jimin feels like a villain in a movie. He feels like the worst possible character there could ever be. He feels like a bad person. Because there he was all this time, writing about how much he hates you for being you, and here you are now, asking him to accept your help seconds after you just read everything.

The world does not deserve someone like you, he thinks. He does not deserve someone like you.

But as much as he feels unworthy, he’s never been more excited at the opportunity to get to know you. To have you there beside him on this new journey of self love.

“Okay,” he accepts, voice quiet and still embarrassed.

“Okay,” you repeat, smile big and hope at its highest.

Okay.

~~~

a/n: part one of a new seriesss les mf goooo (i missed writing so much omg, hope y’all like this one im vry excited abt it 🥹) ALSO part 2 isn’t as confusing lmao, it’s always difficult to clearly start out a series :/ pero i promise it’ll make more sense along the road :)

🏷️: @exactlygreatcoffee @sweetieguk @ctrlsht @blessrious @someusername133 @dreamer-pjm @zadkielr @dearsullix @lailaaxd @osakis-gf @jnghs @seltansworld @bxnqtxnie @moon-kid39

taglist = open, let me know if you’d like to be added <3

[papercranepoets]

Hermione stepped over the gap onto the train. It was a sweltering day, and as soon as the doors closed stale, pungent air hit her.

She scrunched her nose, mumbling about apparating and her poor decision this morning.

Hermione was determined to live with as little unnecessary magic as possible now that she was in muggle London with a muggle job. She had just finished six long years at university and passed the solicitors qualifying examination. This was her first month of practicing law, and so far she was loving it.

Hermione couldn’t help but think of all the ways she could help bring Magical Law into the modern era. Her plan was to gain experience here for a few years and make a quiet return to the magical world.

It was a hard decision to leave things behind. After 8th year she was basically guaranteed a ministry job, thanks to her war heroine title and impeccable NEWTs. That was until Ron and her had a very public and messy breakup and in her first month out of school, the press had harassed her so thoroughly she had a public break down, shooting a curse at the foot of a journalist. It was horrifying and though she was quickly forgiven for her mistake, Hermione knew it was time to step away, applying for university.

The screech of the breaks jolted her out of her thoughts. She briefly looked at her watch, noting she was about 20 minutes early today, eager to get a head start on a case. The doors opened and the jostle of people boarding drew her attention again.

Hermione gasped at the sight of a familiar sharp face moving into the car. Lighting grey eyes snapped up to hers. He almost stumbled at the sight of Hermione.

Malfoy had grown up a lot in the 7 or so years since school. His jawline was immaculate, features sharp in a masculine and aristocratic way. His white hair was no longer over-gelled but tousled and slightly curly. He was sporting a three piece suit with a green blazer. Of course he was wearing green.

Malfoy’s eyes stitched together. He seemed just as surprised as her. Without thinking she moved to the right making a space for him.

Malfoy sat down, seemingly apprehensive.

“Hi.” She said dumbly. She wanted to kick herself. Hi???

“Hi, Miss Granger or Mrs?” His voice was shaking as his eyes darted to her hands folded together.

Hermione let out a nervous laugh, smoothing her skirt and flinging up her hand for him to see. “No, ha, Miss Granger still. It’s nice to see you, Mr. Malfoy.”

His eyes darted around. Absolutely no one was paying attention to them. That was common rule of the tube. Eyes down, earbuds in, and not a glance to anyone making a scene.

In a hushed tone he whispered, “I’m actually going by Mr. Smith now.”

Hermione suppressed an all out laugh. Why would he choose such a common surname? Or maybe that was the point.

He eyed her carefully, perhaps deciding on what to say next. Hermione saved him the pain. “What have you been up to Mr. Smith? Is London a permanent home for you?” She smiled brightly as to let him know she meant no harm.

Malfoy didn’t say anything. His lips were in a thin line. Perhaps he was upset at her seemingly light attitude. A million thoughts raced through her mind and she was curious as to what exactly he was up to.

But again, they all went through the war unscathed. He had clearly decided to escape the wizarding world, as well.

Hermione raised a brow when he didn’t reply.

“Mr. Smith, would you like to grab a drink this evening? There’s a pub close to my work…” Hermione eyed the station they were pulling into. This was her. Draco nodded slowly as he tracked her eye movement.

“Meet you at this station at… hm… 6pm? Would that work?” She said standing to leave.

His brows knit together and then relaxed. He let out a short sigh followed with another slow nod. “That… that would be nice, Miss Granger. I look forward to seeing you then.”

Her heart raced in excitement. Perhaps she was eager to reconnect with her past, no matter who it was. Or perhaps she was drawn by his intense gaze and broad shoulders. Tonight would tell.

[daswarschonkaputt]

so a few select people know that i've been working on these bad boys for a few weeks now. this collection started because @mortimerlatrice had the audacity to try and tell me that fem!kinn wouldn't wear skirts and dresses and i pretty much broke my tablet pen in the rush to prove her wrong. also i felt like redesigning my fem!kinn and fem!porsche ideas. beneath the cut are my thoughts on these outfits plus the fashion collections they're inspired by/referencing.

fem!kinn businesswear looks

fem!kinn i feel like is the type of person who weaponises her gender expression. every part of how she presents herself is a carefully cultivated power play. she smokes cigars and drinks scotch and can talk at length about stocks and cryptocurrency, but she wears high heels even though she had to teach herself how to run in them, has long hair even though styling it is a nightmare, and is never seen without make-up, because every part of her must straddle a line of being masculine enough to be respected without being dismissed as butch, or a transgressor of gender norms. so: power suits and heels.

most of these are just riffs on the show's suits, so no real reference images, though hilarious @elnotwoods and i managed to parallel brain the exact same corset + suit look bc we are bloggers of TASTE.

fem!kinn occasionwear looks

the product launch -- upon rewatching clips from this episode i realised that the product launch apparently has a roaring 20s theme? which be wildin'. i spent so long looking at pictures of 20s style dresses until i found eliza jane howell who is a tiny british designer who has an entire collection of 20s inspired gowns. the inspo for kinn's dress was the miranda dress from her eveningwear collection.

the diamond auction -- i've drawn fem!kinn in this dress before, and i stand by it. this is a dress from ralph and russo's fall 2015 couture collection, specifically look 12. i first saw this dress months ago when i was looking for clothes for a project i was working on and it's lived in my brain rent free since.

date night i and date night ii -- both of these dresses i saw on pinterest somewhere and forget to save the link bc when i do art i usually have abt 50 billion tabs open. (i make firefox weep each time i open a new one.)

looks that almost made it in: michael cors rtw fall 2022 look 24; and schiaparelli couture spring 2022 look 24.

fem!kinn misc looks

okay so the theme for this one was actually "iconic kinn looks" and you know what? the towel was iconic. there i said it.

the sleepwear look -- *cries in detail work* yes all that lace is hand-drawn YES MY WRIST ACHED SO BAD AFTER FINISHING IT, this one is just conjured out of my head, no inspo look

the suspenders -- real ones know which kinn look this one is based off. just google kinn in suspenders or something i guess because we were ROBBED that it wasn't in the show. ROBBED.

the towel -- since drawing it multiple ppl have told me that they think fem!kinn would just wear the towel on her hips, tits out, no shame, and they are all so valid.

family portrait -- when i was drawing this, i got sent a look by siv that i initially discounted because it was a skirt suit and fem!kinn all about those power suits. and then i was looking for thai designers and i saw the same look and i was like, "okay but she'd only wear this in a family portrait," and then i was like hhrrrrnngngn family portrait outfits for all of them, so now it's a category. this is a recoloured version of poem bangkok's fall 2022 rtw collection look 19.

fem!porsche "pre-kinn" looks

okay so my thoughts on fem!porsche are as someone for whom gender is almost an afterthought, whose main friends are all guys, who drinks bear and kicks ass and cuts her own hair whenever it gets too annoying, who buys male toilettries because they're cheaper, who's made a career out of being rich girl's experimental whirl into lesbianism, and who can get them off real easy but isn't so good at getting herself off. she's hooked up with her fair share of guys, and considers herself more of a male-leaning bisexual. like, girls are fun and all, but she tends to have a better time when she hooks up with guys. (kinn's gonna blow that out of the water, hahaha.)

the fighter outfit -- originally this was going to be just a sports bra + jeans, but then i saw a pic of a cropped hoodie and my brain just sort of blanked out and when i was done the art was finished. porsche's abs are very important to me. as are her arms. and her thighs. she's an itty bitty titty committee member tho and i stand by that.

the bartender outfit -- i've drawn this one before, but yes! all the buttons undone! cheapest black shirt and slacks! converse!!! YESS

the casual outfit -- bike shorts, big t, big shirt? yes. fem!porsche sits somewhere between jock and gonna-fix-your-appliances on a fashion basis and i am here for it.

fem-porsche "kinn era" looks

one of the big ideas i had going into this project was the idea that porsche feels divorced from her femininity in a way that she's not altogether satisfied with and that kinn helps her reconnect with it. because, like, let's be real: porsche has no major feminine influences in her life growing up, and she's literally always got bigger concerns. she defo plays up the idea that she's above it all, whilst also completely lost as to how to get to there. kinn is probably both an object of envy and attraction for her.

(also i have in my head that the sauna conversation goes something like: porsche: do you have a boyfriend, then? kinn: i've never once found a man that truly wants a powerful woman. porsche: huh, that's weird. i've had no trouble finding guys who want me to hold the up against a wall.)

anyway it's important to me that kinn makes porsche feel dainty and feminine.

the bodyguard look -- hrrrrngngng waist. that is all.

clubbing with tankhun -- you know how i said somewhere between jock and owns a monkey wrench? meet porsche out clubbing. love it for her.

first public date with kinn -- so the background i had imagined for this outfit was that porsche and kinn are going public, and kinn sends her a box with a dress to wear plus heels, only porsche can literally not stand for more than two seconds in the heels and hates them, so she wears her converse instead. this is almost a direct copy of look 12 from monse's spring 2021 rtw collection.

black tie date with kinn -- obvs this is a dress that kinn picked out for her, so i thought long and hard about what kinn would choose. in the end, i figured kinn would probably want her to look regal. i looked at so many dresses for this one, esp bc there was a secret requirement where i wanted the skirt to be loose enough that kinn could eat her out in it. look, i just think it would be gender if kinn dressed porsche up in this dress and porsche felt all pretty and feminine and then kinn ate her out in the bathroom at the event or something. you know. girl things. this dress is look 6 from valdrin sahiti's spring 2022 bridal collection and i had to download a pdf to get a reference picture, so appreciate my work. also shoutout literally the only time porsche is wearing heels. kinn had to give her like three hours of walking lessons.

fem!porsche minor family head looks

michael kors collection saved my bacon here. i really struggled to figure out what fem!porsche's overall aesthetic would be for her minor family head position. i wanted something distinct from kinn, but didn't think she'd go full androgyny. in the end i settled on a well-tailored suits with a military flare in their cut.

first business look -- this one is based on look 19 from michael kors collection's fall 2022 rtw collection. dem arms.

second business look -- same song, different verse. same collection, but look 7. the thigh-high boots were added by me, though. i wasn't drawing lesbian kinnporsche without putting one of them in thigh-high boots.

visiting mum -- a couple of things. this one is based on this photo i found on pinterest, because i just really liked the neckline. details you might miss: this is arguably porsche's most femme outfit here, but she doesn't have the perfectly styled hair that she has when she's on mafia business, and she's still wearing her ratty beat-up converse. she's feminine, but trying to be authentic. it's a specific kind of messaging she's trying to get across to her mum. she probably agonised for hours over what to wear. kinn definitely really likes her in it.

family portrait -- again, plucked from my own imagination. the original inspiration for this look was look 9 from altuzarra pre-fall 2020 but if you click that link you'll probably be able to tell i went completely off-script. the more i drew it, basically, the more the altuzarra look looked too japanese, which is understandable, because that collection's whole thing was about blending modern and traditional japanese fashion. in the end, i pivoted, and brought it more in line with kinn's look, because i really did want them to have similar vibes. (couples outfits? couples outfits!!)

near misses -- these ones almost ended up involved: altuzarra pre-fall 2020 look 6 for the family portrait; michael kors fall 2020 look 60 also for the family portrait; michael kors fall 2020 look 30 for minor family mafia business; look 17 from alexander mcqueen's 2011 pre-fall collection also for mafia business; this look from pinterest for mafia business that got discounted bc i was going in a different direction; and this dress from rouba.g's spring 2019 rtw collection for the black tie dress which literally only avoided inclusion here because i couldn't make the sheer fabric look right.

anyway the takeaway here is don't get into an argument with me because i will bring receipts. mort learned their lesson, don't worry.

also @yeetlegay i gave you adequate warning. you knew it was coming.

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

How could I forget? (Christen Press x Reader) 18+

Part 2 of I'm Y/n by the way. Be warned this is filthy! Hope you enjoy! I'm slowly making my way through the other requests I have gotten.

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+ only. Slight mentions of choking, the word slut, lots and lots of smut.

Words: 3.5K

Y/n: Hey, not sure if you remember me but it's Y/n

Christen: How could I forget ;) Took you long enough to text me

Y/n: Sorry, I got busy editing that footage. It was a very pleasant time ;)

Christen: Was it now? I wonder why?

Y/n: I like editing

Y/n: Or maybe it was a certain brunette in a very short skirt....

Christen: I'm sure it was definitely the first option  

Christen: So what are you doing Y/n by the way?

Y/n: Now that is just unnecessary :( I'm having a very exciting Friday night of watching Netflix with the four-legged love of my life. What are you doing superstar?

Christen: Also having an exciting night filled with finishing off some work, maybe the last of my wine.

Y/n: Y'know, I have a pretty nice, unopened bottle of wine over here if you're interested.

Christen: Tempting.... What else is on offer?

Y/n: Homemade spaghetti squash bolognaise maybe some netflix and a cute puppy

Christen: You may have twisted my arm, is there an address accompanying that offer?

I sent her through my address before quickly tidying up my apartment. 15 minutes later there was a knock at my door. Christen was standing there looking just as stunning as I remembered though this time she was wearing sweatpants and a oversize hoodie. My 8 month old pitbull puppy ran and jumped up at her, trying to greet her with kisses, "Bruno down."

He sat down, tail still wagging furiously as Christen scratched behind his ears, "Sorry about him, he gets a bit over excited sometimes."

"Don't worry, he's cute, just like his mum."

"Hmm I think he's cuter."

Christen bit her lip, eyes racking over me. It was then I realised I was only wearing sweatpants and a sports bra. I did it so often I hadn't even thought about it, "Cuter maybe, sexier? Definitely not."

"Can I get you a drink?" I asked resisting the urge to take her against the door right there and then. Christen nodded, "Make yourself comfortable, living room is through there."

When I got back to the living room, Christen was sitting on the couch, legs tucked under her and Bruno's head resting in her lap. I handed her the glass, "Is he bothering you?"

"No, he's okay. Assuming he's allowed up here?"

"Oh really? So you'll be around more often then?"

I sat down next to Bruno, "Only when the blankets on."

We made small talk for a while until Bruno took himself to bed. She was actually really nice to talk to and we had a lot in common, but all I could think about was having my way with her again. Something about the way she played with her hair, ran her fingers over my arm, and lent in towards me, told me she may have been thinking the same. I scooted closer to Christen so our knees were touching, hand lightly brushing over her upper thigh. "I'm starting work with the USWNT in a few days."

"Yup, I'm quite excited about it and the people I get to be around," I ran my fingers along her thigh with more purpose this time, hoping she would understand the real meaning behind my words. Of course I was excited to meet new people, but I was much more excited at the thought of being around Christen. Christens legs parted slightly as she lent forward connecting our lips.

Our lips crashed together, her back hitting the couch. After settling between her legs, my hands slipped under her hoodie, resting on her hips as we made out. It was less rushed then the first time, we took more time to explore and it was softer after the initial rush. I ran my fingers up her sides making her shiver then slipped the sweatshirt off. My eyes were instantly drawn to her chest, she wasn't wearing a bra. I slowly ran a finger between her breasts then traced the curve of each one. Christen watched me intently, lip firmly between her teeth. 

I took a second to take her in. I was definitely right about her looking stunning with nothing on. "You are stunning," I whispered leaving a trail of kisses down her chest. I relished in the way her skin felt under my lips, she was so soft, intoxicating. 

Christen arched her back, pushing her chest further into me. I took my time kissing, sucking, and nipping at her chest. Quiet moans slipped past her lips as I pulled back briefly, "Don't hold back, I want to hear how good I'm making you feel."

Her fingers tangled in my hair, legs trapping me between her legs, refusing to let go when I pulled back slightly, "I'm no good to you if I can't move."

Christen loosened her grip just enough that I could sit back and slowly slip her sweatpants down and off. She wasn't wearing underwear either. It turned me on more then it probably should have. Once again I took my time taking her in. I don't think I had ever met anyone as attractive as her. I ran my fingers over her thighs as Christen bucked her hips, "Please don't tease, I need you."

I quickly pulled her up, legs wrapping around my waist. I could feel the wetness against my stomach as I made my way to my room. I slowly lay her on the bed, settling between her legs, tongue slowly licking a line up her folds. A moan fell from my mouth at the way she tasted. There was a hint of saltiness, but she was oh so sweet. Christens own moan followed, fingers curling in my hair. My tongue circled her clit, loud moans falling as her back arched off the bed. I took my time working her up, I wasn't going to tease her, but I also wasn't going to rush it. Her taste was addicting, given the opportunity I would never stop. Two fingers slipped inside her, trusting slowly as she clenched around my fingers, grip on my hair tightening, thighs around my head holding me in place. It didn't take long for Christens head to be thrown back, spasms taking over as loud moans fell from her, "Y/n! Fuck, fuck fuck, g-god Y/n."

Once she settled, I climbed up to kiss her softly. I was about to play with her clit again, but she stopped my hand, "Normally I would be all for multiple rounds, but I can't today, I'm too tired."

I lay down next to her, not complaining as Christen cuddled into my side, quickly falling asleep. It didn't bother me that I didn't get anything in return. As long as she was satisfied, nothing else mattered. Her pleasure was my pleasure. 

---

There was a quite knock at my door, Christen standing on the other side. I had been allowed to stay at my own place this camp. I pulled her in, lips connecting as her back hit the door. Christen had been wearing a short skirt again today, similar to the one that she had been wearing the first time we met. It drove me crazy and she was still wearing it.  

"Hey Christen, how are you? I'm great thanks, you?" Christen said, teasing smile present. 

"Sorry, you just looked so fucking good today. I had to resist the urge to fuck you all day," I pulled away going to sit on the couch, "But if you would rather conversation, how was training today? You seemed a little... stiff."

I smirked as I watched Christen try not to whine at the loss of contact and blush at the meaning behind my comment. Let's just say she was a little sore when she snuck out this morning. 

"It was really good actually, stretched and ached in all the right places." Christen stood against the door, arms crossed over her chest, determined glint in her eyes, she wasn't going to give up easily. Neither was I, but I also wasn't sure how long I could resist her.

"Oh yes, I've heard stretching is important and if you don't ache at least a little bit you're doing it wrong."

Christen bit her lip and I almost lost it. I couldn't let her win so when I remembered the toy hidden under the thin fabric of my shorts, I decided to play dirty. I pat the bed next to me, "Why don't you have a seat?"

Her hips swayed as she approached, just before she could turn around and sit down, I guided her so she was sitting on my lap. A silent gasp left her lips as I'm guessing she felt the hidden surprise. She tried her best to look unfazed, but I could see the anticipation and felt the way her grip tightened slightly on my shoulders. I knew I had won. I feigned innocent, "Thought this might be a bit more comfortable." 

She cleared her throat, grinding down slightly to prove a point, "It's a little hard actually."

"Isn't that how you like it?"

"Sometimes, it depends how I'm feeling."

"How are you feeling tonight?"

"Like hard isn't so bad."

The longer this went on the more I felt my resolve cracking. I reached down between her legs, wetness coating the back of my hand due to her lack of underwear, I slipped my shorts down just enough that the toy sprung free. It grazed along Christen wetness, her grip tightened, lip disappearing between her teeth, the quietest moan slipping free. "Let me try make it slightly more comfortable."

I ran it along her a few times before lining it up and pushing in slightly, "How's that?"

Christen gasped, bucking her hips, "Almost, just a bit more."

I slowly pushed all the way inside her. Christen tried to hide her reaction as best she could, I could still see the pleasure in her eyes. My hands landed on her waist, "Why don't you shift around slightly, try to find the most comfortable position. Let me help."

I guided her hips back and forth. Christen threw her act right out the window as she moved her hips willing, head falling forward as quiet moans fell, "Fuck Y/n."

Her hips moved in sync with my thrusts, slowly speeding up a bit. My arms wrapped around her as I stood up, her legs wrapped around my waist as I moved over to the kitchen counter. I placed her on the edge, thrusting slowly and stripping her of her shirt. I had always wanted to fuck her against the kitchen counter. I explored her chest, thrusts slow, but hard as Christen gripped my hair. I flipped her around, stomach pressed against the counter, ass in the air as I thrust into her again. Hand making firm contact with her ass through the fabric of the skirt, she moaned loudly, bucking back into me. I lifted her skirt, landing another firm smack, before leaning down to whisper, "Comfortable now slut?"

"H-harder, please Y/n harder."

"Pathetic, you can do better then that."

"Please Y/n, please, I need it harder, it feels so good when you slam into me, like I'm just a slut for you to use, fuck harder ple-"

I slammed into her, thrusting hard as her she slammed against the counter. She would likely bruise because of it so I placed a hand on either hip, protecting them slightly from the impact. As I felt Christen get closer I flipped her back over, back landing against the counter, breasts bouncing slightly, head thrown back as I landed a light warning slap to her clit. "Look at me while you come."

I circled her clit, thrusts never slowing, hand closing lightly around her throat. Her eyes flung open, never leaving mine as she spasmed and shook, low moans slipping out as she came hard. It was one of the most intense orgasms she had with me, I wasn't sure if she could go again after that. Once she untensed, her legs wrapped around me, keeping me inside her as I sat her up, letting her slump against me as I ran my fingers over her back trying not to move much knowing she was sensitive after her high, "Good girl. I've got you. Let me know when I can pull out."

Once her breathing settled, she pulled away to kiss me softly, "One more."

I decided to take this one slow. I kissed her softly, tongue exploring her mouth as I thrust slowly. It felt different to past encounter. Things were soft and intimate, like we were connected in a way that was different to friends with benefits. I knew I was starting to fall for her, I knew I wanted more, but I also knew I would rather have this then nothing at all. So I decided to keep my feelings quite, instead just being okay with what I had. Our lips remained connected the entire time I worked her up. Quiet moans falling against my lips as she came again. This time I slowly pulled out and held her until she calmed down. 

"Do you need anything Chris?" I asked carrying her to my room, placing her so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. 

"I'm okay," Christen replied quietly, tiredness obvious. I found an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers and helped her get changed before lying down so she could cuddle into me. 

"Get some sleep Chris, I set an alarm so you can get back in time."

---

It's like Christen and I were drawn to each other. The amount of times we had sex since we met was more than I had with anyone. Every chance we got, we would fuck each other. Whether it be at my apartment, my hotel room, supply closet, bathroom or car. We couldn't get enough. That's how we ended up in the supply room at the stadium, my fingers buried inside her, head thrown back as I left kisses along her throat. I failed to hear the door open, too focused on Christen. A gasp and balls falling to the ground made me pull away abruptly, hand pulling out of her shorts. Kelley was backing out, hand covering her eyes, "Shit, sorry. Man, I did not need to see that. No one will believe this."

Before either of us could reply, she was gone. Christen sighed, leaning back against the wall, "Fuck, I was so close."

I slipped my hand back in her shorts, "No reason we can't finish up here quickly."

Kelley looked utterly grossed out when we made it to the locker room a few minutes later, along with some of the other girls, "Don't tell me you actually finished."

I shrugged, trying not to laugh at the disgusted looks, "It's impolite to leave a girl hanging."

Ashlyn faked a gag, "Gross. So how long have you two been a thing for?"

Christen looked at me briefly before answering, "We're not."

"So what, friends with benefits?"

"I guess so." I replied knowing I wanted to be more, but also didn't want to risk losing this completely. So it would stay hidden as long as possible. 

"Interesting."

"I guess that explains where Christen sneaks off to at night."

---

"I should probably head off," Christen spoke quietly, placing her glass on the table and standing up slowly. She only had one glass of wine so I wasn't worried about her driving, but I also didn't really want her to leave. It was getting harder and harder to hide my feelings for her. We had been spending more time talking lately, more time getting to know each other. The more we talked, the more I fell for her. I didn't bring up anything about that though as I reluctantly stood up to walk her to her car.

I got as far as the front door before spinning her around, pulling her closer to me, "Stay."

Our lips connected in a soft kiss. It was different then our other kisses. There was no force or rush behind it. I would say it was almost filled with love, but I didn't want to read to much into it. A whine from behind us made Christen pull away with a sigh. I pulled away to find Bruno standing behind us, it had been a while since he'd be out.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I should go."

"You don't have to, let me take him out quickly then he'll leave us alone."

Christen sighed again, placing a hand on my arm, "Look, this is fun, it's amazing, but this isn't who I am, this was never who I was. I got so caught up in the pleasure. I-I'm not looking for casual sex anymore Y/n."

I cupped her cheek, kissing her softly, "If that's what you wanted I would go along with it because quite frankly Christen you are gorgeous, amazing. I've been drawn to you the second I laid my eyes on you. It's not what I want though. I was actually trying to work up the courage to ask you out properly."

"So do it."

"Will you um go on a date with me Christen?"

Once again, her lip was dragged between her teeth as a smile broke out, "I would love to."

"You really have to stop with the lip biting."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

My hands found her hips again, pressing her back against the door, "It drives me crazy. It takes every ounce of control I have to not rip your clothes off and fuck you whenever you do it."

"What are you going to do if I don't stop?" 

"I might just lose that control."

Christen smirked, slowly biting down on her lip. I dug my nails into her hips, not hard, but enough that a quiet moan slipped past her lips. A whine from behind us, reminded me of the reason we stopped in the first place, "I really need to take him out. Will you stay?"

"As long as you promise to lose that control," She whispered, connecting our lips in a lingering kiss. 

I pulled back with a wink and opened the door, Bruno rushed out, but waited at the top of the stairs for me. Christen followed me outside, lacing her fingers with mine as we walked to the park across the street. Bruno ran around for a bit while I left kisses along Christen neck, teeth occasionally scraping along her skin, tongue following to sooth it. "Y-you're go-going to leave marks."

"I'm going to do more then that," I whispered biting her ear lobe. "I'm going to leave marks all over that perfect skin of yours. Make you scream so loud you can barely talk. I hope you don't have practice tomorrow because you're not going to be able to walk straight."

Christen sucked in a breath, "I-is he do-done yet?"

My hand ran along her back, she instantly lent into my touch, "Someone's desperate, but yes he is."

Once Bruno was safe in his crate, Christens back hit the wall, my lips attached to her neck again. I wasted no time removing her sweatshirt, lips trailing down her chest until I reached her breasts. I sucked a nipple into my mouth, her back arching, a quiet moan slipping out. My mouth explored the skin that it had explored many times before. Dark marks left behind everywhere that could be covered. My knee slipped between her legs, pressure applied just right enough to coax quiet moans and turn her breathing erratic. By time my fingers slipped past the waistband of her pants, she was desperate and absolutely soaked. I let her pants fall to the ground, teasing her for a few minutes then plunged my fingers into her. I thrust hard, hitting all the spots I knew drove her crazy. It didn't take long for her to be thrown over the edge. 

Christen flipped us over once her breathing calmed down, I was about to flip her back over, wanting this to be about her, but she spoke up before I could, "If you do what you promised to do, then I'm going to focus on you first."

She quickly led me to my room, stripping my clothes off and pushing me back on the bed. All protests I had, slipped from my mind when her tongue ran through my folds, circling my clit. It didn't take long for pleasure to erupt, head thrown back, as moans and curses slipped out. Her tongue was quickly replaced with fingers, hitting all the right spots as I felt the pleasure build again. Christen was amazing, always managing to throw me over the edge quicker than anyone else ever had. 

After managing to get my breath back, I straddled her waist, kissing her once more, "You're such a good girl baby. I'm a women of my word. Just a warning, I won't be stopping until you are completely wrecked."

And I didn't. I threw her over the edge time and time again. Not stopping until she was pushing me away and begging me to stop, unable to form a coherent sentence. I helped her under the blankets, cuddling up against her. "Are you okay?"

Christen nodded against the crook of my neck, "I-I don't think I can move."

"I've got you baby, you did so well. Get some sleep."

Sex with Christen was amazing, but it was safe to say I was much more excited about the upcoming date. I couldn't wait for her to be mine. 

[vole-mon-amour]

3x10, a mix of everything, part 1

didn't expect it to happen that fast but HELL YEAH. there's nothing for Nathan to do next to Rupert. Rupert keeps switching his lovers like socks while his wife is still at home with their daughter. come on!! villain arc for Bex and Rebecca when? when is Rupert gonna get killed die and leave Bex all the money??? and then Bex and Rebecca become best friends and raise a daughter together?

Trent being the heart of the team? do you remember how it all started and how wary everyone was of him? do you? it warms my heart, but it warms it twice bc of the clear bond we see between Colin and Trent. like, older queer with younger queer, helping each other out and bonding. their friendship does things to me tbh. it's so very important and intimate and—

in other words, representation matters.

yaaay! also, Trent <3333 again, this warms my heart.

sometimes I really have no idea what this season is doing. i miss them being a dramedy, not a full on sitcom. i'm enjoying this season, but sometimes it's borderline too much. it's out of nowhere and it's not necessary at all.

besties unlocked <3 Trent is such a sunshine, I love him. the way he and Ted share a raised eyebrows look. there is something so wonderful happening between Ted and Trent from the moment they met. it's like they're connected and are being drawn to each other.

girl talk, especially when it involves middle aged men <3 Rebecca as their leader is really something. i love it.

I think Rebecca is being mean to the actual devil. also, why do iphone users love their matte screen cover? why not the regular one?

Trent is so in love with Ted, my goodness. that cute smile. Ted is so freaking oblivious, I need the show to do something about it. i need Ted to learn Trent is in love with him.

this is such a nice shot. something something, the idea of press taking pics of Nate's gf leaving. which at first I thought was kind of nice, but then she leaves with a suitcase and it looks like a breakup of some sort, so not that nice. hm. still, the shot is pretty.

this is such a nice look & I like her hair a lot, but my GOD, how do people wear those minies? it's beyond good and evil for me. shorts i can kinda understand, but skirts? that's... yeah, no.

there you go Jack's "me and Keeley are dating" without asking Keeley first if she wants to announce it and then Jack totally ghosting Keeley. *frustrated high pitched growl* I hate that plotline. if it's their way to push Keeley back towards Roy bc she will no longer be that busy so Roy can't come up with that excuse again, that's a very shitty thing to do. so far I don't see the bigger picture of this. they've been messing up Keeley's storyline this season just like that.

"the board" oh, fuck you, Jack. (in Grace Le Domas' voice) fucking rich people.

Dani crushing Van Damme's chips is such a dick move, ESPECIALLY since you're trashing the airplane!! you're not the one who's gonna have to clean it up, you asshole.

can somebody connect this parallel for me pls? it's just within my reach but it slips away.

sooo, Beard isn't getting out of a toxic relationship? gotta say, this plotline concerns me. idk where they're going with it and WHY in the first place. Beard deserves better & Jane needs some serious therapy.

#fired immediately

I'm here for Rebecca standing up for herself against Rupert. I hate that asshole so much.

I don't remember, have we seen Roy's sister before? it's so rare.

go fuck yourself. yes, i'm quick to jump to conclusions and violence.

Leslie is NOT having a good tea time this season. let him enjoy his tea 2k23! however, the fact that he knows every friend Rebecca has. some friendship between him and Rebecca developed along the way since s1.

[dragoncxv360]

My second colouring page for @maudiemoods dca colouring book. Didn’t think I’d get it done in time ‘cause my mood was wonky and I have surgery in a week but I did it! I’m super happy with how this came out, it looks so cute!

[Image ID: a digital drawing of Sundrop and Moondrop from fnaf. Both are organic instead of robots.

Sundrop is pregnant and wearing a long sleeve red sweater with a high collar and a dull greyish brown see through skirt with black flowers on it in a pattern. On Sundrop's right hand (left hand for the viewer) is a gold wedding ring. She is also wearing a silver, cresent moon shaped necklace. Sundrop's eyes are pale purple and her eyeshadow is a slightly darker purple. There are small eyebags under her eyes. Her face is pale yellow on one side and pale orange on the other side. Her hands are pale yellow and grey. She has large medium pinkish orange cheeks. Her face is framed by petal like rays which are a medium orange at the base and a pale orange at the tip (in a gradiant).

Moondrop is wearing a baggy lilac sweater with a wide collar, baggy white pants with light blue stars on them, and a medium blue hat with white stars on it and a white rim and white puff ball on the end of it. On Moondrop's right hand (left hand for the viewer) is a gold ring which matches Sundrop's. His face is a very pale grey on one side and dark purple on the other side. His hands are very pale grey and light purple. One of his eyes is open and is a pale yellow. That same eye has medium yellow eyeshadow. There are dark eyebags under his eye. His other eye has 3 long scars over it and is shut.

Sundrop is drawn in a 3 quarter view holding a daisy in one hand and reaching back to cup Moondrop's cheek in the other hand. She has her head turned to the viewer's left, looking at Moondrop with a small smile on her face which shows her teeth. Moondrop is standing behind her with his head resting against her hand. He is hugging her from behind with both his hands on her belly and he is looking up at her with a small closed mouth smile on his face.

In the first picture they are both surounded by leaves and the sky is blue with some white clouds. There is faint yellow beams of light shining down on them. In the second picture the background is a medium pink and there is no added lighting. End ID]

I hope I did that ID right

Some fun facts under the cut:

Their wedding rings are on their right hands ‘cause I messed up in the sketch (I have a hard time telling left from right :P) and I decided to keep it ‘cause I liked it better and sometimes gay couples wear their rings on their right hands.

The moon necklace Sundrop is wearing has a matching sun necklace that fits inside it that Moondrop wears. This was an idea I had back in 2019 or 2020 actually for my ocs Pinky and Luca, but it eventually got scrapped when i rewrote the story for the millionth time.

Sundrop and Moondrop are lesbians in this (Sundrop is an nonbinary gal and goes by she/they, Moondrop is intersex and agender and goes by he/they/she/it)

Sundrop and Moondrop are also dating Eclipse and Nova and they are one big gay disaster polycule XD

But yeah, I’m super super happy with this and I genuinely felt like I was gonna cry tears of joy when i finished it ‘cause looking at it makes me so happy

[youmakemyhearthowl]

Punk Princess

Ao3| Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5 | Part 6| Part 7| Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10| Part 11 (Next Part)

(I'm so sorry for this)

Steve’s been sitting on his feelings for a few weeks now, and he’s more than sure that Eddie is someone he wants to be with in the long term. He’s so sure, he’s been planning the perfect way to ask him out for a few days now, and he’s almost got it exactly how it needs to be, when things kinda just go to shit.

He decided on his fishnets with a long kilt today, bright and matching the school colors because it’s an important game in the basketball season, and he pairs it with his spiked denim jacket with his battle vest pulled over it, a T-shirt that he took scissors to the sleeves cut so low it shows off the nailed baseball bat tattooed on his ribcage.

He’s excited for the game tonight, because he's going to actually have people in the stands supporting him. Robin has band so she’s always kind of there (of course she’d be there even if she didn’t), but he’d been planning on asking Hellfire to join in the stands tonight to watch. It’s the first time he’s going to be inviting anyone to see him play, and he’s beyond excited he has the club as friends now.

Steve’s never had a big group of friends before, and he’s a little overwhelmed sometimes that so many genuine people want to talk to him throughout the day. All because he ditched what he thought would make him well liked, and embraced something that not only made him happy, but helped him really truly be himself. 

“Someone’s in a good mood this morning.” Robin chirps, grabbing Steve’s arm and placing it over her shoulders so she can nuzzle into Steve’s side, sighing happily at the contact. She’d replaced the purple in her hair with a forest green last night when she’d added it to the back ends of Steve’s hair, stating that she needed to match him, so people know he was her best friend. Steve’s entire body felt warm with love today.

“I’m just excited, Robs. This is a big game and I’m going to be in for the whole time probably, and I’m gonna ask the Hellfire boys to come too, so I might actually have people in the stands cheering for me that actually matter.” His happy energy seems to be contagious because Robin pulls back from him and links their hands together instead so she can swing them back and forth between them, the spiked bracelet she has on brushing the inside of Steve's wrist.

“I can’t wait for them to see you in your natural element, Steve. You glow when you play basketball.” She’s got a big cheesy grin on her face as she leads him out to the bleachers. They’ve started sitting with Hellfire during their free period now. The group accepts them in with open arms, and Robin and Gareth have formed some kind of bond over complaining about Steve and Eddie so the transition was easy.

“Hello boys!” Robin cheers loudly, her smile only seeming to widen as she plants herself on the bench next to Gareth and steals one of his baby carrots.

“What’s up Birdie?” Jeff beams, ruffling her hair. Steve’s eyes are instantly drawn to Eddie who’s been unusually quiet as they walk up and has to stifle the laugh he feels bubble up.

Eddie’s face is beat red and his mouth is slightly open, his eyes locked firmly on Steve’s exposed legs and trailing up his body. Subtly Steve adjusts his jacket just as Eddie's eyes get to his midsection so he can catch a glimpse of the ink on his skin.

“You have three tattoos?” Eddie’s voice comes out kinda strangled, fish mouthing as he meets Steve’s eyes. “Also are you wearing a skirt?” His face is steadily growing redder, the blush traveling down his cheeks to his neck.

“It’s a kilt.” Steve offers, smirking. He can hear Eddie muttering under his breath but it's too quiet for him to make out, so he throws himself onto the bench next to him, stretching his legs out and crossing them at his ankles. His heavy boot heel digging into the dirt below them. 

“So I’ve got a question.” Steve tries to keep his voice nonchalant, but he feels his excitement seep in and he can’t contain the giddy smile forming on his face as he looks at all his friends, god his friends, sitting around him.

“I’ll literally do anything for you as long as you keep that kilt on.” Eddie responds, Robin and Gareth make a fake gagging noise in the background. Steve throws his head back and laughs, feeling lighter than he has in a very long time.

“So tonight’s like a super important game for basketball and I was wondering if you guys would come watch me play? I know its last minu..” Eddie holds up a hand cutting him off.

“Steve, Hellfire is tonight.”

“Well yea I know, but I figured we could do it tomorrow or something since I have the game and wouldn’t be able to make it anyways.” A small thread of dread starts to snake its way into Steve’s stomach as he watches Eddie’s face morph into displeasure.

“Cancel Hellfire for… Basketball?” Every word of that sentence is coated with a venom Steve’s never had Eddie direct at him before, and the thread of dread turns into an entire lead brick in his stomach.

“Well yea, that way we can… do both?” He says it like a question, watching Eddie spring up from the bench next to him and begin to pace in front of the group.

“We don’t cancel Hellfire Steve. We’ve never canceled Hellfire. And you want to do it for some stupid basketball game? You’re choosing that shit over us?” He gestures around to the rest of their friends, a sharp anger in his eyes as he looks at Steve. 

“I just thought it would be nice to have like real fr…” 

“I should have known you didn’t really care about me, us, this group. Fucking prioritizing your stupid jock game over Hellfire. Jesus Steve, your true colors really have been sitting below the surface this whole time haven’t they?”

Steve feels ice cold.

He’s fighting off the sting of tears threatening to fall as he stands up and squares his shoulders, pulling on everything in him that he can, to bite back at Eddie. But he can’t find any heat in his veins to even begin to add to the words, so his shoulders deflate as he lets out a breath shaking his head.

“Just forget it man, I’ll send Dustin or something to sub for me tonight.” It comes out in a neutral tone as he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets to try to bring some warmth back to them.

“Bullshit. Don’t bother Steve. You’ve shown where your priorities are. Consider Sir Stephen no longer a part of the campaign.”

Steve just walks off before the tears can fall, biting his knuckles to hold in a sob.

Bullshit. Steve should have known better. He really should have. He’d assumed that Eddie would be different, that Eddie would be open to all sides of Steve like he was open to all sides of him. But at the end of the day, apparently Eddie still saw him as King Steve, and nothing was probably ever going to change that.

He can distantly hear Robin shout something at Eddie before she’s running up to him and throwing her arm around his shoulder. Tucking him into her side the same way he always does to her.

Steve should just stick to Robin. Maybe he was only destined for one friendship. Maybe he wasn’t someone who should ask for more than that. 

Robin was enough anyways.

She always was.

(I don't think I'll be able to post again until Sunday, but know I love you guys, and the angst doesn't last forever, the boys are just Teenagers that have things they need to learn and unlearn.)

Ao3| Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5 | Part 6| Part 7| Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10| Part 11 (Next Part)

[beeeinyourbonnet]

Covetous | Chapter 4

Rating: E (I changed it for the whole fic, it is not specific to this chapter)

Pairing: Macelle (Father MacAvoy x Belle) or Nostelle (Nosty x Belle), who is to say which

Summary: Father Joseph MacAvoy wakes up in a library across town with no idea of how he got there. When the kind librarian doesn’t kick him out immediately, he considers that maybe there’s more to life than alcohol.

[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3]

tws: alcoholism, homelessness. If I missed a warning, I’m so sorry–please let me know and I will add it ASAP!

------------------

Belle parked as close to her building as she could, hardly seeing the curb as she searched for Nosty. She’d given him her address and he promised to meet her here after she dropped off Joseph. A small part of her thought he’d bail again, but too big a part of her had hope. 

He wasn’t outside, but then, she didn’t actually know how fast he could walk. Maybe he hadn’t made it yet. 

She climbed the stairs to her second floor flat, watching out the window even though that wouldn’t help. If Nosty was going to show up, he would make his presence known when he was ready. He wouldn’t just wait for her to find him.

As she unlocked the door, she half expected him to jump out and surprise her from inside, but her flat was as empty as it had been when she’d left that morning. Deciding to have hope, she locked it behind her—it would have been in character for Nosty to sneak in if it was unlocked—and shed all of her work clothes on her way to the bathroom. 

She touched up her hair and lipstick, then added another layer of mascara before looking for an outfit. She wanted to wear something more special than she wore to work, but she was prone to wearing all her nice clothes to the library since she had nowhere else to dress up. All of her coworkers wore jeans most days, leaving Belle as the only one in heels and skirts.

Someone knocked while Belle was still standing in her underwear in front of her closet, and she felt like she could float out the window. Was he here? Was it really him?

Making a quick decision, she grabbed a dress with no zipper and yanked it over her head as she jogged to the door, careful of her makeup and hair. 

“Coming!” Along the way, she picked up her discarded clothes and shoved them into her dad’s room—the spare room, now. 

Standing in front of the door, she smoothed out her dress and swallowed. If it really was Nosty on the other side, this was about to change their relationship forever. It was almost a bigger step than the first time they’d kissed.

If it wasn’t Nosty, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t cry.

She straightened her back and took a deep breath before opening the door. The hall was empty, but she had no time to process this because then Nosty was there, real and true and solid, lips tilted up in his affectionate sneer.

“You are here!” She opened the door wide and he sauntered in, taking in the room. 

“In the fucking flesh.” His gaze lingered on the window, and she wondered if he was calculating his exit options. “I was eavesdropping on your neighbors. Fucking nutters.”

She couldn’t stop her giddy grin. He was here, in her apartment, and he hadn’t been trying to hide from her—he’d just been drawn in to her neighbors’ loud conversations. 

“If you’re here long enough, you’ll probably hear them having sex,” she said. 

He finally turned back to her, raising both eyebrows. “What’ve you got, some fucking perv hole to listen?” 

“Our bedroom walls adjoin.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, and then slung an arm around her shoulders. “All right, give us a tour then. Can’t believe it took you this long.”

“My sincerest apologies.” She ducked out from under his arm so she could take his hand, surprised when he followed her to the kitchen with no protest. She showed him the fridge and where the cups were, hoping he’d feel free to eat and drink as he pleased, and then he let her tote him back out to the living room. 

Before her father died, this flat had been his. She’d lived in a studio to save up money after grad school, but once he got sick, she moved back into her childhood bedroom, and then when he passed, inherited the whole thing. When he’d owned it, the only real decorations were family photos—mostly of Belle in various life stages. Now, she had taken down most photos of herself except the ones her dad had loved the most, and the walls had blank gaps waiting to be filled with art. She’d added rugs to the living room, a bookshelf that covered most of the wall, and replaced the old threadbare furniture with a plush red couch and reading chair.

Nosty let go of her hand and sidled over to the bookshelf. At one point, it had been organized by genre, but she couldn’t just reorganize the whole shelf every time she added something, and with no family or friends, most of her disposable income went toward new books, so it was haphazard. Some places even had books in a stack instead of shelved neatly.

“Who’d have fucking thought.” Nosty chuckled, running his finger over the spine of a fantasy novel. 

“What?” She chewed her lip. She’d been called all manner of things for living in books her whole life, even by her own loving dad, and while nothing bothered her anymore, she wasn’t sure she could take any cutting words from Nosty.

“Me on a fucking date with a nerd.” 

She had to laugh because Nosty was still touching the spines of books like he couldn’t quite believe how many there were, and because now, after months, she recognized the tint of affection to his voice. 

“Don’t you want to see the rest?” she asked.

“I’m self-guiding it now.” He left the bookshelf, wandering over to a cluster of graduation photos. Some were the professional headshots taken by the school, and some were pictures of her and her dad or her and her grandparents. 

He zeroed in on one from her undergrad graduation where she stood between her two roomates, all three of their arms around one another. It was the only photo with anyone in it who wasn’t family.

“Who’s this?” he asked.

“My old college roommates,” she said. “I haven’t talked to either of them in years.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged. She didn’t really know why she kept the picture up, except that it reminded her that she had once had friends, people to spend time with outside of work.

“We lost touch.” 

He took her hand then but kept his eyes on the photo wall as they meandered toward one of the blank spaces she’d left. 

“What was here?”

“Nothing. My dad had way more photos up, so I took some down thinking I’d hang art or something.”

He touched the blank space, then moved on, brushing his hands over one of her throw pillows as they passed her reading chair. 

When they reached the hall that led to the two bedrooms, he stopped, and she thought he would say something, but he just looked between the rooms, then pulled her toward hers. 

“Another bookshelf?” He dropped her hand, heading for the small shelf she kept by the bed as a nightstand. It contained books she was currently reading, books she planned to read soon, and some of her favorites.

“I thought it looked nice,” she said, and as Nosty rushed past her bed without a glance, she had the sudden realization that not only had Nosty actually come to her home, he was now in her bedroom. 

Maybe he realized it at the same time she did, or maybe this had been his plan all along, because he spun and sauntered toward her. She’d never been barefoot with him before, and he dwarfed her this time when he pulled her to him by the hips. 

“So, how long do we stay here before we hear anything interesting?” He jerked his head toward the wall she shared with her neighbor.

Her arms rested on his chest as they always did, and she was about to answer when she realized it wasn’t as soft as it usually was, and something poked her in the wrist. She moved her hands back and found buttons. Buttons.

“What’s this?” She traced a finger down the crisp white seam, marveling that it had taken so long to notice.

“What’d you think took me so long to get here?”

Something caught in her throat. She traced the buttons, blinking and blinking and blinking because, if she didn’t, she was going to cry, and she didn’t want Nosty to think he’d done anything wrong.

“Belle?”

She slid her hands up his chest to trace the lapels and the bit of Nosty’s chest exposed by the open collar.

“You dressed up for me.”

“What, was I supposed to wear some manky old tshirt on our first date?”

He’d probably stolen it—that was probably what had taken so long—but she found she didn’t much care. The system had failed Nosty so much that he lived on the streets. She didn’t begrudge him a shirt, especially since he’d stolen it because he was taking their date seriously. Their first date. 

“You look good.” 

“Yeah?” His fingers trailed up her side and then her neck until he could lift her chin. “How good?”

His wolfish grin told her exactly what he wanted, so she kissed his collar bone, then stood on her toes to kiss his lips. He cupped her cheek, holding her close, but then she leaned away.

“Oi, that’s it?” he asked. “One little kiss? I’m wearing a fucking collar.” 

“Aren’t we supposed to be going on a date?” She couldn’t stop smiling, and even Nosty’s grin didn’t wane.

“What, this isn’t good enough for you, hey?” 

“I thought we were going to the cinema.”

He groaned dramatically, letting go of her waist so he could take her hand again and lead her out of the bedroom. “Fine, let’s go.” 

“Any requests?” she asked, tugging on his arm so he’d pause for her to get shoes. 

He considered for a moment, eyeing her closet with interest while she pulled a pair of sandals out. “Nothing violent,” he finally said.

There was not a lot about Nosty that could have truly shocked her, but his admitting that he didn’t want to see violence did it. She ducked to hide her smile while she slipped her shoes on.

“That’s perfect,” she said. “I don’t like violence either.” 

Before he could make another move, she stood on her toes again and grabbed his face, kissing him like she’d spent all day waiting to be kissed. Then, just as he was responding by gripping her hips, she pulled away.

“What was that for?” he asked, sounding, for the first time, a little breathless.

“I just really like you,” she said. “That’s all.”

His eyes jerked back and forth across hers, like he was quickly reading a disclaimer, but then he settled. “Lucky me.”

****

Nosty didn’t hold her hand on the eight blocks to the theater, and he walked like he was afraid someone might steal the sidewalk from him. This was probably the closest to seeing him in his natural habitat that Belle would ever get, so she didn’t complain, just kept up while she told him all about a school visit she was planning for next week. She might have worried she was boring him, but they spent much of their time talking about the library and Belle’s life, and he always had insightful questions. Sometimes Nosty told stories, but she could tell he altered them, made them more palatable to a sheltered woman like her. 

When they arrived, he eyed the growing Friday night crowd.

“Need a smoke.” He pulled a cigarette out of the inside pocket of his jacket and a lighter from his kilt. 

“I’ll go get the tickets?” she offered. 

He nodded, still scanning the sidewalk as he lit up. She squeezed his forearm before heading to the box office, trying not to stare at him as she walked away. He was just smoking. He wasn’t going to bring her all the way here only to abandon her while she was buying tickets.

Since they didn’t have a plan, she chose the movie that would be starting soonest, which happened to be a romantic comedy. It was better than the slasher film starting around the same time. 

Nosty was still waiting for her, cigarette finished, looking no less antsy. 

“Popcorn?” She handed him his ticket and it vanished between his fingers like a magic trick.

“Aye, if you want.”

She couldn’t help feeling guilty that brash, cocksure Nosty felt so out of place somewhere as basic as the cinema, but that made it even nicer that he’d come at all. He’d changed his shirt, calmed himself down, and now he was standing in line with her to get popcorn and sodas.

The moment they sat down in the dark theater, she felt him relax. Even so close to the showing, she’d managed to get an aisle seat near the back, so Nosty had the open air on one side and Belle on the other. 

He popped the foot rest out. “Jesus fuck.” 

“What?” she asked, following suit.

“Last time I went to the cinema, it was all fucking folding chairs compared to this.” He reached across the arms and tapped her on the belly. “I was gonna be romantic and put me fuckin’ arm around you, but I guess this is all you get.” He pinched her this time and she laughed, scooting out of his reach when he wouldn’t let up.

“You can romantically put your arm around me later,” she said. “How’s that?” 

“Might need convincing later,” he said. “Now that I know you took me to the cinema so we could sit a meter apart and take a fucking nap.”

“We can still hold hands.” She offered hers to him, palm up. “And then later, we can sit at a romantic corner table in a candlelit restaurant and talk with our heads close together.”

“Not the same,” he said, but he took her hand anyway.

****

MacAvoy thought he was going to take a few sips of the vodka and pass out immediately, but he hadn’t counted on his body being used to pushing itself until he was more alcohol than human. He laid in bed fully-clothed, wishing he had something more than this to drink.

His monthly stipend wouldn’t be coming until next week, and he didn’t have much money left to live on. A smart man would take the money and buy cheap, shelf-stable foods to eat. MacAvoy considered, as he lay in bed trying not to wonder if Belle would be frightened of Nosty’s monstrous cock, that he could be a smart man. If he knew what a smart man might do, he had the capacity to be one. 

In fact, he was counting on being smart enough to remember that Belle didn’t work tomorrow. 

So he dragged himself out of bed and found one of his stashed-away tenners. He ignored the glares he received at the grocery as he added tinned beans, bread, and eggs to his cart. He could have added a few more things, but if he used money he actually had on alcohol, he’d be less likely to get kicked into a gutter, so he bought the cheapest handle of gin they had.

Impressed with himself, he lurched his way home and put everything away, then flopped back on the bed and gulped more vodka. 

“Belle, I hope you’re okay,” he wheezed into the empty room. He still had her phone number in his pocket, and he caressed it with shaking fingers. 

She’d said not to call tonight, but what if his deviant fantasies weren’t images sent from Satan but visions sent from God? Visions that, were he to ignore them, foretold Belle’s horrible fate? 

He only needed one more sip of vodka to convince himself of this, to imagine Nosty with fangs and claws capable of ripping out Belle’s poor, devoted heart. 

When he called, though, it went straight to voicemail. He didn’t leave a message; he just shrugged out of his shirt and closed his eyes.

****

It wasn’t the best movie Belle had ever seen, but she and Nosty both laughed, holding hands through most of it. They sat in the theater through the credits until it was mostly empty, then Nosty stood and offered his hand.

“So, was it everything you hoped?” he asked while he helped her up.

“It wasn’t bad.” She picked up his trash, stuffing his empty popcorn sleeve into hers and then adding the empty soda cups. 

“I mean our date, hey?” He wiggled his eyebrows, but there wasn’t the same swagger in it as usual. He wasn’t just talking.

“Is it over?” she asked. “I don’t want it to be.” 

With his free thumb, he reached up and wiped something underneath her eye—probably some rogue mascara from when she’d teared up near the end. 

“What’s next then?” he asked. “I’m no fucking romantic, so you’ll have to lead this one.” 

Privately, she felt that he was wrong, he was a fucking romantic, but she didn’t say anything. “I’m hungry. Do you want to go out or eat in?” 

He started down the steps to the exit, still holding her hand but no longer looking at her. “There’s no restaurant dark enough to keep people from seeing us together.”

“So?” Was he embarrassed of her? He probably thought she was embarrassed of him since she always insisted on secrecy in the library—but that was her job. She could be fired if she was caught making out on the clock.

“So, I’ve got bad table manners.” He let go of her to skip down the rest of the way, whirling at the bottom of the steps to watch her descend with his arms folded. When she reached the final step, he grabbed her hips, putting them at eye level. 

“No you don’t,” she said. “We’ve eaten together loads of times.”

“You keep forgetting, sweetheart.” He kissed her on the throat. “I’m an animal. The monster you invited over your threshold?”

“Maybe I like monsters,” she said. “Maybe I don’t believe that monsters are exactly what they seem.”

He kissed up her neck until he could tug on her earlobe with his teeth, and as her knees buckled, she was keenly aware that not everyone had left the theater.

“Fine, love,” he hissed into her ear, and she thought she might faint. “Let’s go.”

Dinner was a quick affair. Without reservations, there was no way to get into a romantic, candlelit restaurant, so they went to a little burger joint, and Nosty relaxed a fraction.

Belle leaned toward him. “Are you afraid of me?” She popped a chip in her mouth, raising her eyebrows.

“Wee fucking bird like you?” He took a gulp of his beer. “Fat chance.”

“Why are you so skittish tonight?”

“Not fucking skittish,” he said. “Just alert, hey? Don’t want you to get fucking snatched or summat.”

“Don’t trust me to defend myself?” She jabbed a chip toward him like a sword, and he swiped it from her and ate it with a teeth-baring grin. 

“I’m sure you’re a fierce bint when its called for,” he said. “But a fucker what sees me’s not gonna try anything with you.”

She watched him with narrowed eyes, then took a bite of her burger. “I don’t think that’s the whole story.”

“Yeah?” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Tough shite, that’s the best you’re getting out of me.”

“I think that you’re nervous because you think I won’t like you out here in the real world,” she said. “That’s why you were jealous of Joseph. Because you think if I had any other option, I wouldn’t pick you.”

“S’a fine fucking tale.” He drained his pint. “You spin it all by yourself?”

She plucked a chip off his plate to make up for the one he’d taken of hers, feeling as on top of the world as she’d felt all night. 

“It’s not true, you know,” she said. “I could have hundreds of options, and I’d still pick you.”

He watched her from his leaned-back chair, over his crossed arms, down his nose through narrowed eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“I do know that,” she said. “I knew it as soon as you kissed me the first time.”

He turned his head, watching the restaurant, and then glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Hurry up and finish.” He picked up the bit of burger he had left and gestured for her to do the same. 

“What’s the rush?” she asked, even though she obeyed.

He plunked his chair back down, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m tired of not being alone with you.” 

****

The closer they walked to Belle’s flat, the more Nosty touched her. He started with one arm slung across her shoulders, and by the time she was unlocking the front door, he had one hand across her stomach, one in her hair, and he pressed open-mouthed, toothy kisses to her neck while he held her against him. 

Somehow, despite this, she got the first door open, and then climbed the stairs without losing any contact with his hands, and as she fumbled with her own key, he closed his teeth around her pulse and she whimpered.

“You’re mine tonight,” he growled, and she didn’t even know if she’d be able to unlock the door, but then his hand was on hers and he was taking the key from her. She blushed at how helpless she became whenever he focused his full attention on her. 

“Nosty,” she said as he finally got the door open and they stumbled in. “I don’t think we should—tonight.” 

“That’s okay, sweetheart.” He shut the door behind him and pressed the key into her hand before sliding his other hand more possessively around her waist. “Some days, I don’t even fucking know where I’ve been.”

She didn’t have much time to be relieved that he understood because her brain and body wanted to focus more on the rough sound of his voice in her ear. “We’ll get tested together,” she managed.

“Whatever you want.” He nudged her forward, toward the couch, and then at the last second, sat himself and pulled her on top of him. 

He shifted to hold her across his lap, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Will you stay tonight?” she asked.

“I’ll do whatever you want, Belle,” he said, and she thought he might have meant it. “You want me to fucking strip naked and sleep at your feet? Fine.” He kissed the apple of her cheek, then her earlobe, lowering his voice to his quiet growl. “You want to lie back and spread your legs so I can eat your cunt ‘til dawn?” He licked her ear and she thought she might die. “Just say the fucking word.” 

“I want you to hold me.” She brushed her thumb down his jaw. “Just hold me.”

He cradled her head in one hand and brought the other to her cheek, brushing his thumb across her lower lip.

“Nothing else?” 

She shook her head. “I feel safe when you hold me.”

He kissed her lips, then down her neck, and she thought he might bite her again, mark her as taken for anyone to see, but he just kissed his way back up to her ear.

“Safe from everyone but me.” He tightened his arms around her and she hoped he never let go.

[chapter 5]

[simpforchuchu]

Merry Christmas I Tsuji x y/n

For Kels <3 Merry Christmas Honey 🥺🥰🌸 @babyboybinbin

a/n: Hi I was your secret santa and wanted to write a fic for you 🫡 It is all fluffy and soft 😭 I hope you like it 🌸💕

Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my main language so...

Thank you and love you 🥰 @

Warnings: none, just fluff

The young girl looked at the clothes she was wearing and smiled. She remembered that day again with her white skirt, cream colored t-shirt and long white coat.

For the first time, the princess of White Rascals would not spend Christmas evening with her brother and his friends. Even though Rocky didn't like this situation, he couldn't say no when he saw that she was so willing.

He knew her boyfriend, and although he didn't like the boy from Oya at first, he could see how much he loved his sister. And when he saw that he was not like the other Oya delinquents, that he was actually a very mature boy, he started to love him.

The most important thing to Rocky was his sister's happiness. And he could see how happy this tall boy made her.

While watching herself in the mirror, the young girl noticed her brother smiling at her from the door. She turned to him smiling.

“This will be the first Christmas evening I don't spend with you, I'm sorry.”

Rocky smiled and walked over to his sister and caressed her cheek.

“As much as I don't like it, I guess I should accept that you've grown up. Have a nice evening.”

Y/n smiled and wrapped her arms around her brother's waist.

“And tell that bastard that if he brings you back too late, there will be consequences.”

Although he trusted Tsuji, Rocky was a protective brother. And he couldn't prevent his tone from becoming serious as he said these.

Y/n nodded and smiled. Tsuji's gift was on the bed, and there were a few more bags next to the bedside table. She found the one for her brother in the bags and handed it to him.

Rocky smiled and took the gift from the young girl's hand. He leaned down, gave his sister a small kiss on her hair and opened the gift.

There were two photo frames in the package. One of them had an old photo of y/n and Rocky when she started elementary school. In the second frame, there was a picture made by the young girl. The same photo was sweetly drawn by her hand.

Rocky couldn't help but smile when he looked at the gifts in his hands. His eyes were burning, but he wasn't going to cry in front of her. He caressed the frame with his fingers and smiled.

“Beautiful , thank you kiddo.”

Y/n smiled and nodded. He held out the bags next to the bedside table.

“I bought small gifts for everyone, their names are written on them. Can you please give it to them for me?”

Rocky nodded. He took the bags in his hand. With one hand he pulled out a small gift package from his pocket and handed it to y/n.

“I'm not as creative as you, little one, but here's your gift.”

Y/n giggled and took the gift. A small jewelry box was found inside the package. Inside is an expensive pearl necklace.

She looked at the necklace with a smile. It was really elegant. She slowly took it in her hand and handed it to her brother.

“Can you help me put it on?”

Rocky smiled and put the necklace in the young girl's hand around her neck. Y/n was such an elegant and beautiful girl, the necklace looked amazing around her neck.

Y/n smiled and thanked him again. Rocky hugged her again then walked out of the room and y/n continued getting ready.

~

Tsuji was still busy cooking at home. He was trying to cook all the dishes he knew for her and wanted to set a wonderful table.

He took the meat out of the oven and placed it on the table. Since they were underage - and he was afraid Rocky would kill him - he put y/n's favorite juice on the table instead of drinking alcohol. Plates, forks, dishes… everything was ready. His parents weren't home and Tsuji couldn’t book place at an expensive restaurant. So he invited her to his house.

He looked at the large mirror next to the door. For today, he was wearing clothes that he thought looked good on him - because y/n said so. He braided his hair the same way it was when they first met.

He checked the candles on the table again and smiled when the doorbell rang.

His heart was beating so fast...

When he opened the door, he looked at the young girl's face, wrapped in her coat and covered with a scarf, and smiled.

“You must be so cold, come on in, baby.”

Y/n smiled and took off her boots, setting them aside. She took off her scarf and smiled widely.

"I miss you."

Tsuji smiled at the sweet voice of the young girl and leaned down and gave her a small kiss. Then he hugged her tightly.

“I've been waiting for this day for a long time. Let's have a great evening, baby.”

Y/n shook her head.

“My brother must really love you, but I still shouldn't go back too late.”

Tsuji chuckled and nodded. He pointed to the young girl's coat and when she took it off, he hung it on the hanger.

Tsuji always found her stunningly beautiful. But when he saw the clothes she was wearing he couldn't help but smile

"These…"

Y/n smiled. She was wearing the same clothes she had worn the day she first met him.

Tsuji and y/n had met at a music store a year ago, the day before Christmas. They were there that day to check out the new album of a singer they liked. They both reached for the last album at the same time and looked at each other in surprise. Tsuji pulled his hand away and smiled. Y/n shyly pulled her hand away and apologized.

The young boy knew that he did not have money to buy that album that day. He would save some money and come again. But there was only one copy left from the first print of the album. And he had let y/n have it.

They talked for a long time that day about the songs they loved. Koo was watching the two from afar and waiting to intervene if he sensed the slightest danger.

But Tsuji was a kind boy. Y/n didn't know he was from Oya. In fact, he didn't treat girls the same way he treated boys.

Tsuji couldn't understand what she had to do with white rascals when Koo came back and said they had to leave.

But he was brave. Maybe he was stupid. When he asked the young girl for her number, he didn't know that she would give it to him, but the young girl gave it without even hesitation.

And he and Koo had to look at each other for a while…

The young boy smiled as the memories came to his mind. Time was passing really fast.

“You are still so beautiful.”

Y/n smiled shyly and hugged the young boy around the waist. She buried her head in his chest and mumbled

"I am so hungry"

Tsuji laughed and caressed her hair

“I cooked a lot of food for you, I hope you like it.”

Tsuji chuckled as Y/n looked up in surprise.

"Yes I did"

~

The young girl looked really happy while eating the dishes. And she ate with appetite. Tsuji was watching her with a smile as she finished her plate and held her stomach.

“Babe, everything is delicious… Ahh, I love you”

The young boy laughed and shook his head.

“If you want to rest for a while, then we can continue eating again.”

Y/n shook her head sadly.

“I want to eat them all, because you made them for me.”

Tsuji smiled and stood up from his chair. The romantic dinner remained a pretty sweet moment. When he came in front of Y/n's chair, the young girl looked at her boyfriend, not knowing what will he do.

The young boy gently took his girlfriend in his arms and smiled

“I want to show you your gift”

Y/n wrapped her arms around the young boy's neck and smiled. She looked up and waited for him to kiss her, and when she got what she wanted, she grinned even bigger.

“I thought my gift was food”

Tsuji laughed and shook his head. He placed her on the sofa and sat next to her. He opened the laptop on the table in front of him and opened the file titled “for y/n.”

Y/n's heart was beating so fast she thought Tsuji could hear it. She hugged his arm and looked at the screen.

Tsuji clicked on a file, a sweet melody spread throughout the room. She knew that Tsuji loved making music. She guessed that he was singing a song for her. But what she didn't know was that he had written a song for her.

The young girl smiled with the unfamiliar but sweet words and the voice of her lover. She was surprised but she was listening to the song with a smile. Tsuji was watching her.

When the song ended, y/n had tears in her eyes. It was the most meaningful gift for her. She wanted to hug the young boy's arm tightly and hide her face.

Tsuji smiled and pulled her into his lap and hugged her tightly.

“I hope you like it baby.”

Y/n hugged the young boy tighter.

“It was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard in my life, you are so cruel, how will my heart be able to handle such sweetness?”

Tsuji chuckled and stroked her hair. He gently placed the young girl on the sofa and took out a small box from his pocket.

“I bought this too, just in case”

Y/n pursed her lips and sniffed. Tsuji laughed at her reaction and opened the box. There was a very sweet and elegant necklace inside.

The necklace was a chain necklace. She thought she could wear both of them together because they were not similar to her brother's.

“This is so beautiful… Tsuji… Why are you so perfect?”

Tsuji smiled and gave the young girl a kiss. He took out the necklace from the box, put it around the young girl's neck and placed another kiss on her hair.

“The most precious gifts from the two most precious people in my life. I'll take good care of them, baby, thank you."

Tsuji smiled and nodded. The happiness on his girlfriend's face made him happy too.

"My turn!" y/n shouted happily and got up from the couch and brought the package she left aside.

"I have two gifts too," Tsuji smiled.

“Open this first, my love.”

Tsuji laughed and nodded. When he opened the package, he saw the album they had wanted to buy that day. Y/n explained as she looked up with a smile.

“This album is from the first edition, it was not easy to find but I thought it would be meaningful”

Tsuji smiled and said a small thank you. He caressed the young girl's cheek and smiled.

“I can still remember every detail of that day, I fell in love with you at first sight”

Y/n smiled and held out the second gift. Tsuji gently opened the package and looked at the picture inside in surprise.

This was the picture of the moment they first met. It wasn't hard to understand that the two people in the drawing were y/n and tsuji. It depicted the moment when the two reached for the album and looked at each other.

The young boy knew that his girlfriend could draw. But this… This was really nice. Y/n smiled when he looked with tears in his eyes.

“Merry Christmas baby, I love you so much.”