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#Boxer Rat
tytumbles · 1 year
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Boxer Rat.
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sintoj · 10 months
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Haven’t drawn these 2 in a while!
Timelapse below:
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thatsatricky1 · 2 months
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stinkybrowndogs · 2 years
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Jumping into the minor arcana, posting these guys 6 at a time. Not sure I love the border designs but I can change that if needed.
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sunbreaxer · 4 months
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was told my hands would make a good necklace
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dirt-str1der · 10 months
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That fanart of kiryu getting fingerblasted and he’s wearing nothing but his watch always makes me so fucking horny i was to explode
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hippie-self-shippie · 9 months
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you know what? fuck you *furries your punch out ships*
(s/i on the right belongs to @batty-axe!!!)
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you think we should bring boxers tape into the mainstream fashion.. hey guys...
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guys ?
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strang3lov3 · 7 months
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Bath & Body Works
Mall Rats 2! Can be read alone. But if you want-- read Mall Rats 1 here
Summary: You'll drag Joel kicking and screaming into your bubble bath if it's the last thing you do.
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A/N: I am stoked about this one!
Warnings: smut, fingering, handjobs, oral sex (f receiving), rubber ducky, joel is extra cranky, dirty talk, forced bubble bath with a grumpy old man, soapy tiddies, rubber duckies, country apple scented bubble baths
WC: 3.2k
You’re going through your bag of goodies from your first trip to the mall with Joel. You’ve got your undies and bras from Victoria’s Secret, along with some candles and stuff from Bath and Body Works. 
You would have picked out more, but Joel was throwing a bitch fit about how you were taking too long to pick out body sprays and whatnot.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…just fuckin’ pick one already. They all smell like chemicals and girl. I’m gettin’ a migraine.”
“From all the smells?”
“No. You.” You ignored him and searched for body wash to match your body sprays and lotions. “C’mon. Shake a leg, sweetheart.”
“I need body wash. I can’t find it.”
“Here” Joel grabbed a random ass bottle, shoved it in your bag, wrapped his hand around your forearm and dragged your ass out of Bath and Body Works. “It’s all the same shit anyway.”
Now you’re pulling out that random ass bottle of what Joel had deemed as the same shit as body wash. And it’s not the same shit. At all. 
Relaxing Bath Bubbles
Country Apple 
Awh, shit. Guess you’re about to give Joel another migraine. 
You walk over to his house and knock on his door, your backpack full of your Bath and Body Works goodies. Rubber duckies too. You snagged them from a broken claw machine in the mall. 
Knock knock knock knock knock
“Joel, open up.”
You knock some more. Joel opens the door clad in nothing but plaid boxers, his eyes squinting and his hair wild. “The fuck do you want?”
“Need to use your bathroom,” you say. “Now. It’s an emergency.”
Joel raises an eyebrow. “Why? You know what, I don’t wanna know. Just make it quick.”
He’s perplexed, but he leads you to his ensuite bathroom anyway. He says Ellie’s bathroom downstairs is heinous. You enter the bathroom and shut the door, and Joel lays on his bed as he scribbles in his book of crossword puzzles.
The first thing you notice about Joel’s bathroom is how nice it is. Spacious, a deep and wide circular inset bathtub. How he scored this, you don’t know. You strip, leaving your clothes in a pile on the floor then fill up the tub with hot water. You toss your duckies in the water, dump some Country Apple bubble bath in the tub and watch the bubbles emerge, then light your Bath and Body Works candles and turn out the lights. 
The water is soothing and the bubbles smell nice. You lean back in the tub and relax, watching your little rubber duckies float through the bubbles.
Only when half an hour goes by does Joel realize something’s up. He’s been stuck on his puzzle for the last ten minutes and completely forgot that you’re in the bathroom. He shuts his crossword puzzle book in frustration, sets it on his nightstand and turns out the light in his room. 
The flicker of your candles through the cracks of the bathroom door catches his eye. Confused, he decides to investigate. He’s about to knock on the door when he hears a splash. 
Joel doesn’t have time for this. He barges in to find you soaking in his tub, surrounded by candles and rubber ducks. He looks like he’s gonna have a conniption fit.
“Oh, finally,” you say excitedly. “Been waiting for you.”
Irritated doesn’t even begin to describe the expression on Joel’s face at how shockingly cavalier you are about bathing in his tub. “The fuck are you doing in here?”
“Using your bathroom.” 
“You said it was an emergency.”
“Correct,” you reach for the bottle of apple scented bubble bath and toss it to Joel. “Emergency indeed.”
“We need to go over what constitutes an emergency, then. Because this shit is not an emergency. Not in the slightest.”
“It is, actually,” you counter. “That’s bubble bath. Not body wash. They are not the same.”
 Joel looks at you and he’s not sure which of you has a screw loose, but clearly something’s not right here. You fill one of your rubber duckies with water and squirt him on his tummy “The fuck is the matter with you?” he snaps. Joel snatches the toy from your hand and tosses it behind you, so you fill another ducky with water and squirt him again. “Get your ass out of my tub and go home.” 
“Take it up with Tommy. My tub’s broken. He said he’d fix it but he never did. He said to use yours.”
“Tommy did not say that.” 
“You weren’t there. You don’t know.”
“You know what? M’not doing this. Out. Now,” Joel takes a step forward and reaches his arm through the bathwater to find the drain stopper. You grab hold of his arm, biting your bottom lip as you smile mischievously. Joel glares at you. “Don’t.”
You squeeze his forearm tighter and pull with all of your might. Joel tumbles forward into the bath, water splashes over the edge of the tub and floods the floor below. Joel emerges from the water gasping. “God bless it,”  and pushes his hair out of his face, then wipes his eyes and turns to you. The look on his face pierces daggers right through you. 
In a ballsy move, before he can stand up and step out of the tub, you slide over and sit your ass on his lap. You lean back to force him against the edge of the tub. “That’s better,” you say. “Need you to be my pillow. Your tub’s uncomfortable as fuck.”
“Not gonna be your anything. Get the fuck out of my tub or so help me god I will–”
“Joel, shut up. I’m trying to relax. And you should too, because you’re kind of a crankerpuss.”
Joel scowls. “Do not call me that.” 
“Well, you’re being very hostile right now.”
Oh, he’ll show you hostile alright. You don’t know the first thing about hostility. Joel’s about to pick you up and throw your ass out of the–
Nope. Bad idea. 
It’ll make an even bigger mess on the floor. You’re not worth the water damage. And then you’ll slip and fall, crack your skull open and there’ll be blood everywhere. Hiding the body will be Joel’s next step and he’s not in the mood for that. And of course, inevitably, you’ll knock over one of your candles and set Joel’s bathroom ablaze. 
So Joel shimmies off his boxers and tosses them over the edge of the tub. They land with a wet plop. He leans back with you still on his lap, accepting his fate as your human pillow. 
“Isn’t this nice?” you ask sweetly.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Shut up.”
So you quiet down and settle against Joel’s torso as best you can. Except as the minutes pass, he still won’t relax. He’s stiff as a board. His hands are in fists, resting on either side of his thighs. He’s practicing his deep breaths and going over the serenity prayer in his head. Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
“You seem tense,” 
“Mm,” Joel says. “Wonder why. What a mystery this is. I’m stumped, truly.”
“You tend to run hot. You know. Short fuse,” 
“You tend to drive me fuckin’ nuts,” he counters. You scoop up some bubbles in your hand, and Joel grabs your wrist and shoves it back underwater. “Knock it off. S’not playtime.”
You turn so you’re facing Joel and straddled on his thighs. You lift up on your knees, reaching behind Joel to grab a couple of towels. You drive him nuts, but at least he’s getting a nice view of your soapy tits. Pros and cons. 
You fold the towel and set it behind Joel to support and cushion his neck. “Is this nicer?” you ask. 
“It’d be nice if you weren’t here. See enough of ya already.”
“Get used to it,” you reply. “Got a whole lotta mall left to explore.”
“Don’t remind me.”
You don’t bother responding. Instead, you reach for a rag and a bar of soap and begin to lather it. You lift Joel’s arm up and begin scrubbing his skin gently. 
“Quit it,” he snaps, yanking the rag from you. “Washed earlier.”
Your feelings are a little hurt and you frown. “I’m trying to be nice.”
“Don’t need you to be nice to me. Need you to get out of my house. Now finish your bath.”
You grab the bar of soap again, this time without the rag. You lather it between your hands and reach for Joel’s arm once more, this time putting more emphasis on massaging him and less on cleaning.
This, he seems more receptive to. He lets out a little sigh and his head falls back on the towel you folded for him. You massage down his arm, letting your fingers squeeze and work his biceps, then his forearm, the palm of his hand and even his fingers. Your hand accidentally nudges his half hard cock, but he doesn’t startle or move you away. 
You’re thinking about his cock. You haven’t really seen it, hardly felt it. In a seamless transition, your hand leaves Joel’s and you reach between your bodies to play with his member. He grows hard with your touch, you can feel it. In your palm, he’s thick, heavy, and long. You trace your finger over the prominent vein that climbs up his length. 
Joel sighs and reaches for your hand that’s working his shaft. “What are you doin’,” he sighs. 
“Rub-a-dub-dubbing you.”
You think your eyes deceive you as a flicker of a smirk graces Joel’s face. It’s gone in an instant, but you saw it. You’ll have to alert the media. 
“Charming,” he mumbles. 
You continue massaging his member. You’re thankful that the bubble bath led you to this moment here with Joel, but disappointed that the bubbles are hindering your view. You slide your hand up and down, letting your thumb swipe over his swollen tip. 
“Feel good?” 
“S’good, honey. Yeah, so fuckin’ good. Keep it up.”
Joel’s leaning into it now. Melting like a candle. Eyes fluttered shut, lips slightly parted as a symphony of curses and pretty noises escape his mouth.
“Fuck, darlin’. Squeezin’ me s’good.”
 His chest is rising and falling unsteadily. The flickering candlelight bounces off of his skin and gives his face a warm glow. He’s got both hands on the globes of your ass cheeks, sliding over the expanse of skin. Up your waist and down your thighs, loving every inch of your body. 
You lean forward and hold onto his shoulder with your free hand while you stroke him with your other. You dip your head lower to kiss and nip at his jaw and neck. His skin is warm and fragrant like the bubble bath. 
One of Joel’s hands slither between your bodies and he cups your mound. His fingers reach lower to trace lazy circles into your clit. You pump him faster as he plays with you, soft breaths and groans falling from his lips. “Y’got it, sweetheart. Just like that. Just like–ohh, fffuck.”  He squeezes your ass tight as he finds his release, his body tensing and twitching under your touch. He lets out deep and guttural groans, music to your ears. 
He’s coming down from his high, still mindlessly tracing your pussy with his thick fingers. You’re watching as his breathing slows. He’s finally relaxed. And they said it couldn’t be done!
And just then, one of your little rubber duckies floats between you and Joel. The duck wears a mischievous smile. It’s like it’s thinking what you’re thinking. 
Subtly, oh so subtly, you reach for the ducky and squeeze it, then open your fist slightly and let it fill up. Joel’s eyes are still closed and he’s breathing peacefully as you hold the duck level with his face. You squeeze the ducky once more, and a thin stream of water squirts from the duck’s beak and onto Joel’s cheek. Got his ass. 
Joel opens his eyes slowly, his previously soft expression now harsh and irritated. Joel reaches for the duck. “You squirt me with that thing one more time…” he takes it from your hand, “Watch what happens.”
You bite back a smile. 
“Keep it up,” Joel growls. “Now sit back down and spread your legs. Water’s gettin’ cold.”
He’s got a soft spot for you, believe it or not. His brain is telling him to kick your country apple scented ass out the door, but his heart’s telling him to let you stay a while longer. He is a gentleman with principles, after all. A lady should always finish. 
“Wider,” he says. “Open up.”
He uses his strong, masculine hands to grip your thighs and spread them apart, but he doesn’t have to do anything. You oblige to his request immediately. He toys with your clit, circling and swirling his fingers over the sensitive bud before dipping his middle finger inside of you and chuckling. “Hmm,” he hums. “Selective hearing.” “What?”
“Nothin’,” he mumbles. “Just think it’s funny how ya only listen t’me when you’ve got my hand or my cock between your thighs.”
You answer him with a soft moan and scoot closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck as he pumps his finger inside you, feeling how warm and wet you are. 
“So this is what it’s gonna take, hmm? To get you to be a good girl for me?”
“More,” you breathe. 
Joel inserts a second finger and you gasp. “Jesus, girl. M’gonna get carpal tunnel tryna get you to behave yourself.”
“Carpal what-el?”
“Don’t worry about it, pretty girl. S’nothin’.”
You whimper as his thumb swipes your clit and his fingers pump inside you. You hold his shoulders for stability as you grind your pelvis against his palm, rocking the water all over the place, over the tub. The waves bounce high and into Joel’s mouth, he’s annoyed as he spits out some bubbles. You may have overfilled the tub. 
“Y’need to sit still,” he says. “Makin’ a goddamn mess.”
“Sorry,” you rasp.
But the splashing continues. Joel gets an idea then. He pulls his hand away from your core. 
“No,” you whine. “Don’t stop, Joel, please–”
“Lookit that, usin’ your manners. Bein’ so nice,” Joel praises you. “You’re fine,” he coos softly. “Not goin’ anywhere. M’right here with you.”
Joel adjusts a few towels on the tile surrounding the tub, making a nice little bed for you. He lays you on the towel, watching as beads of water fall from your body and your legs dangle in the tub. He pulls you close, then licks one long stripe up your pussy.
“Yeah, that, keep doing that,” you beg.
“Not plannin’ on stoppin,” Joel chuckles, his low voice sending vibrations through your sex. “Gonna take my time with your sweet pussy.”
Joel does just that. He licks from bottom to top, top to bottom. He tastes every inch of you, from your slick folds to your clit and back down to your entrance. He flattens his tongue wide against you, lapping at your cunt and savoring the taste of your arousal. He loves the sinful, wet noises your pussy makes. 
You tug on Joel’s wet strands of salt and pepper hair, pulling him as close as you can get him. “I know, gorgeous. I got ya,” he whispers. 
Joel pushes two fingers inside you once more, this time curling them upward to find that sweet spot inside you. You kick your legs, splashing even more water than before. You’ve got an iron grip on his damp curls, twitching and shuddering with every flick of his tongue and sending water flying. 
This whole eating you out to keep you from flooding the bathroom thing didn’t go as planned. But Joel’s a trooper. He’ll soldier on and mop up your mess later. He firmly grips the area behind your knees, lifting your legs from the water and pushing them apart. They sit high at your hips, he has you in a vulnerable position. He devours you and holds you close with a certain tenderness, and you know you’re in good hands. 
“Mmmm,” you moan. “S’good, fuck.”
“Got a dirty mouth, hon. You know that?”
You do know that, but you can’t respond. The only thing you can do is whimper and make those sweet, sweet noises that Joel loves so much. “Keep makin’ those pretty noises, sweetheart.” he whispers as you squirm against him. He holds you tighter, keeping you still as he brings you to the edge. His fingers and tongue working relentlessly to make you dizzy.
“Gonna, fuck. M’gonna come, Joel. Please, please–” 
“Come on my tongue,” Joel tells you. “Let go f’me. Give me a good one, sweetheart. Wanna taste it. Wanna taste all of you.”
With his words and ministrations inside you, along with his tongue dancing on your clit, you dissolve under him. Pure pleasure courses through your veins, beginning deep in the pit of your stomach and washing over you, your torso and thighs. Joel’s name is the only word you know at this moment. You sing it like a hymn, worshiping the man who makes you see stars. 
Your head feels fuzzy. You’re hardly aware that Joel’s now kissing his way up your body, over your tummy and your ribcage. He kisses one of your breasts, then the other. He flicks his tongue over one nipple and lightly pinches and twists the other. “Didn’t get to give these tits of yours enough lovin’,” he mumbles. 
It’s touching. He’s such a good lover, but such a forgetful man. Guess what’s sitting right next to you.
Yup. Rubber ducky. 
Joel’s still kissing and massaging your tits, and you quietly reach for the duck. You squirt him right between the eyes. 
Joel snatches the toy from your hand. “Where do you keep finding these fuckin’ ducks?!”
You shrug and giggle, then Joel pulls away from you. He pulls the drain stopper, then dries you and himself off with fresh towels. “Alright,” he says. “You had your bath and then some. Get lost.”
You pout. “You’re not gonna walk me home? It’s late.”
“Nope.” Joel bites his cheek, knowing he’s not actually gonna kick you out to walk home alone. You’re making him soft, and he hates it. “Fine,” he concedes. “Get in bed.”
You giggle and make your way to his bed, watching Joel mop up your mess in the bathroom. He blows out the candles and returns to you. “M’way too fuckin’ nice to ya,” he grumbles. 
“Eh,” you shrug. “Could be nicer.”
Please comment/reblog if you enjoyed! Send me asks! Your interaction means the world and keeps me going!
Part 3
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ok yeah im relistening to archive 81. i forgot dan forgot tanyas name... the closet is glass
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swoleisthegoal · 11 months
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B&W JOCK AESTHETICS
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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AU of Gotham! Tim Drake! Danny where he doesn’t know the universe he was reincarnated into.
“Robin!” Batman barked. Tim sighed, loudly. Batman twitched.
“What is it, B?”
“Drills. Again.”
Tim rolled his eyes but moved to obey. Speaking to B these days was like speaking to a rather boorish caveman. Simple grunts and single word sentences. It didn't use to be like this but B was loosing his grip on his humanity and it’s Tim’s job to bring it back.
It’s hilarious because he’s the least human of them all. It was odd, juggling his duties as Danny Gotham, his responsibilities as Tim, and his workload as Bruce’s shiny new Robin. Somehow he made it work.
Yeah, sometimes B’s hands are heavy when they’re training. Sometimes he forgets Danny’s name (or at least his human name) and calls for Jason instead. Sometimes, he smells more like booze and less like Bruce.
Danny could handle it. Even if his core quivers with grief. He wished he didn’t have to, but he could and will handle whatever he needs to for his Knight to regain himself. But fuck, that doesn’t mean taking his self destructive habits lying down. He might be Tim right now, but as far as Batman knew, Tim was here on the orders of
“B.”
“Hm.”
Oh, a neutral grunt! I see we’ve upgraded to grunts instead of arm flapping! Holy detective, Batman! Aren’t I glad I learned to speak cave man? Wow! Tim mocked, in his head.
“You’re heading to bed when I’m done with this set,” Tim said.
“This case isn’t done,” Batman growled. Ancients, it was like speaking to a large chihuahua-toddler hybrid. All the barking, all the growling, and all the petulance of a child makes the entirety of how his Knight acted on a good day these days.
“That wasn’t a suggestion,” Tim shot back, sore arms and legs and everything working through the set. Thank the ancients for his healing, or else Tim might actually be dying.
“You don’t give me orders, Robin.”
“No, but Gotham does.” He would know, considering Tim was Gotham.
The head full of greasy- ew, take a shower, B!- hair swiveled towards him.
“You have a direct line to Gotham?”
Tim settled into the final forms of the night. “Gotham sent me. I thought we went over this.”
A beat of silence.
Batman returned to clacking away at the computer. Tim finished his set in relative peace. He moved to the cool down stretches while Batman sulked in front of his computer like a five year old.
“I’m done.” He said, crossing his arms.
“Hm.”
“That means you’re done, too.”
“I’m not tired.”
Tim rolled his eyes so hard, he thinks he saw the light. Oh, wait, that’s just Bruce’s last brain cell dying.
“You’re heading to bed. Good luck finding actual crime tomorrow, if you stay up.”
Batman stilled, because he knows Gotham would back Tim up on the threat. Considering the time sensitivity of some of these cases, Gotham’s anger is not something he could risk.
Tim patted himself on the back for effectively playing the good cop and the bad cop on his own. Except ACAB for life because they’re vigilantes and the GCPD as a whole (with exceptions) sucks ass.
He watched as Batman- as Bruce- reluctantly powered down the Bat-Computer. As he stood up, Tim wrinkled his nose.
“Never mind. You take a shower first. I’ll text Alfred.”
“Not necessary.”
“Okay, then you can explain to Gotham why you’re traipsing through his city looking a starved rat and smelling like you took a joy ride in Killer Croc’s excrement. Oh, wait.” Tim snapped, just about done being patient today. Tim whipped out his phone, texting Alfred with one hand and pointing towards the staircase with the other.
“Shower above ground, you weird little mole rat. No cave water for you.”
Bruce makes a weird offended grunt.
“I literally don’t care if you have to walk up to your room to shower in your boxers, B. Most of Gotham’s people don’t have access to a shower, let alone a million dollar bathroom. Fucking use your actual bathroom instead of hosing off.”
And with that, Batman and Bruce Wayne moved to the tune of a pre-teen, who was also, unknowingly to him, the spirit of his City.
——
“Go home.”
Tim smiled sweetly. Bruce paled. The scary, Gotham loved child patted Bruce’s hand as he sat beside Bruce’s bed.
“Sleep, before I make you.”
Bruce slammed his eyelids shut, anything to not look at Tim’s malicious looking eyes, and allowed himself- nay, forced himself- to rest for the first time in weeks since Jason died.
As Bruce’s dumb self drifted off to dreamland, Tim muttered, “Wuss.”
He settled himself into the chair, napping lightly to make sure Bruce doesn’t sneak out to work when he’s gone.
Alfred snapped a quick picture.
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sweetercalypso · 3 months
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Random Abby Anderson hcs because I’m never not thinking about her:
— always asks for a bite of your food and then takes the biggest bite possible without even trying (and doesn’t understand why you don’t like to share💀)
— cut her hair too short one time and had a fuck ass bob until it grew long enough to braid again
— loves when you put your hands over hers when you’re sitting together (she just really likes subtle pda)
— runs hot so she always kicks her blankets off in her sleep and wakes up sweaty and red faced like she just finished a marathon
— no outbreak!Abby would 100% wear those black boxers with the little red hearts on them. Ellie just wears plain black boxers but Abby likes the ones with the fun prints
— likes when you offer to braid her hair because she loves the physical contact, but secretly rebraids it when you’re done because she needs it to be perfect
— casually flexes all the time because she’s a gym rat and it’s a common occurrence for her to show off her biceps mid conversation
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shotmrmiller · 26 days
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Toni, I just thought of something: underground boxer! Simon
Just imagine him dripping sweat with a bloody nose and a few cuts in his face. His nose got broken one too many times, he‘s scarred, and still, he can see the admiration in the readers eyes whenever they wipe the sweat from his face between rounds.
can you imagine having him as a fighter instead and he slams into the side of the cage you're behind, specks of blood spotting your jeans and you're in awe cuz finally, a fighter up close only for him to pull you to the side much later, all battered and bruised like, "soft things like you shouldn't be down here in the sewers with the rest of us rats."
hey but what about underground fighting simon who's down there because it's all he's good at but he's genuinely trying to find a job that's ethically correct and that requires schooling and the only way he can successfully pay for it is through fighting.
:)
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glitterforashes · 9 months
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𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐩 ; 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬
>>> drabbles for the main sally face boysss, sal fisher, and larry johnson. sal’s is inspired by bubblegum by clairo, larry’s is inspired by east liberty by partnextdoor.
𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫 —
mildly obsessed with the uncertainty of ghost hunting.
too curious for his own good. literally curious george. the curiosity that killed the cat.
laid-back, doesn’t give a damn about most things.
has a very deep voice for a teenager. sounds like a literal grown man.
sometimes you can’t tell if he’s even awake.
“sal? sally? sal??” he’s just staring into the void.
“what?” he had to sneeze. that’s why he paused and went radio silent for two minutes straight.
you spend most of your time in his room, curled up on his bed reading while he sits on his bean bag chair and plays video games.
sometimes turns around to make sure you’re still awake / doing okay.
one time you put a toy rat next to him. he nearly shit his pants when he noticed it.
“(y/n)?” “hm?” “you’re fuckin’ ugly.”
doesn’t mean it. apologizes right after. he thinks he’s so funny.
grew comfortable enough around you to lift up his mask far enough to eat.
whenever you sleep over, he’ll take off his mask once all the lights are off.
loves watching movies with you, especially when there’s snacks involved.
will listen to every sanity falls album over and over again with you.
you had been switching between reading, doing homework, and playing video games for close to five hours, well into the twilight era of the night. it was 10pm when you decided to start getting ready for bed, being as both of you had school in the morning. you showered as sal brushed his teeth and combed through his hair, then switched. sal showered as you did your skincare and brushed your teeth and put your hair up. you both fell into his bed after he switched the light off, taking your respective sides. you liked to sleep next to the wall for the purpose of putting your body against it if it got too hot, and sal liked sleeping closest to the door for emergency purposes. you wore his tshirt and boxers, and he wore boxers. you turned over to face him, propping your arm underneath your head. he laid with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. “sal?” “hm?” his gruff voice always soothed you in a strange way. “can i.. touch you?” you heard the movement of the sheets as he turned his head. even in the dark you could tell he was looking at you. “what?” “can i touch you? like, your face?” sal had never let you see his face up to this point. he preferred to keep it hidden, only sometimes letting you see his lips. he was silent. “you don’t have to.” “okay. you can.” you looked at where you assumed he was, breathing in deep. “are you sure?” “yeah.” he whispered. you slowly reached out, feeling out for where his face was. you found it, your fingertips pressing lightly against his cheeks. he flinched under your touch, a sharp inhale sounding through the little space you had between your bodies. “are you okay?” you whispered, starting to retract your hands. “yes. it’s fine.” you nodded, swallowing a lump in your throat that wouldn’t go away. you loved sal. you knew vaguely of his past and understood where the roots of his insecurity started, but societally accepted face or not, nothing would change your love for him. you gently ran your fingers over the expanse of his skin, feeling his lips and cheekbones, and the dips. the missing flesh, the scars. and you loved it. loved him, loved what made him so unique. you pulled your hands away slowly, grinning to yourself. you could hear the quiet sniffle. “sal? are you alright?” “do you think i’m.. gross?” he asked. your heart broke. you moved closer and wrapped your arms around him, resting your head against his chest. his arm slung over your body naturally, pulling you closer. “no, sally. i could never. you’re beautiful.” he turned his head, resting his face on your hair. you felt the very slight puckering of his lips as he kissed the crown of your head. “thank you.”
𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 —
his mom LOVES YOU. absolutely adores you. you two have girls nights all the time.
took you to the sanity falls concert tour for your birthday, kissed you in the rain, and took you home sopping wet. your dad wasn’t pleased.
“uh— we got caught in the rain, sir.” “i see that.”
apologized for weeks. it still makes you laugh.
smokes so much weed it’s a miracle he remembers his name.
“hey man, how’s my driving?” “…i think we’re parked, man.” vibes
you’re constantly sleeping over at his place, you have a drawer in his dresser dedicated to your belongings.
is very meticulous with his hair. has a hair care routine. refuses to cut it for any reason.
has painted you on multiple occasions. boudoir shoots happen often.
“paint me like one of your french girls.”
loves watching horror movies with you.
is surprisingly very gentle and sweet, especially when you’re upset. unless it’s with travis. fuck travis. all my homies hate travis.
“hey, girl. what’s the matter?”
holds you until you feel better and is very patient
listens to the sanity falls albums constantlyyy it drives you crazy.
“larry— stop. you’re gonna green out.” he exhaled a huge cloud of smoke directly into your face, smirking. “greening out is a make-believe concept made up by losers who can’t handle their marijuana.” you swear larry only knows big words when he’s high. when he’s sober, he has the articulation of the average seventh grader, but when he’s high he turns into fucking shakespeare and it’s crazy. specifically because if he’s high, there’s a good chance you’re high, and you won’t understand half the shit he says. the sound of the tardy bell rattled against your skull as it rung throughout the entire school, screaming at you and larry to get to class before the dean came hunting you down. you took one more big drag from the blunt you two had rolled during study hall before stamping it out and throwing it in the toilet, flushing the evidence. you two shuffled out of the tiny bathroom stall, looking at each other proudly. “sniff me.” you stepped closer and sniffed his shirt, him doing the same for you. “nah, i think we’re good.”
ya’ll were not good. both of you smelled absolutely rank, so it was truly no surprise when you ended up in the dean’s office, but it surprised you to see larry sitting in the office waiting area with a bloody nose. “oh, hey man.” you fist bumped him as you plopped into the chair next to him, manspreading the entire seat. “what happened to your face?” “fuckin’ travis wanted to run his mouth. kicked his ass, but when i turned around he clipped me in the nose. kicked his ass again, now i’m here.” “word.” you were so faded it was humorous. “what about you? what’d you do this time?” “ms. fat tits sent me out because i was ‘stinking up the room’ and if i ‘wanted to smoke pot and ruin my mind’ i needed to do it at home.” you cackled, larry joining in.
“is something funny?” the principal asked the both of you. you straightened up and held your breath, shaking your head no. you and larry looked at each other from the corner of your eyes simultaneously and you exploded with laughter. long story short you both got suspended for three days. did you give a fuck? hell no. hence why you were now in larry’s room in nothing but a sanity falls tshirt and underwear, rolling up another fat one. “you’re my favorite person, y’know that?” “(y/n), shut the fuck up.” he shook his head, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “you’re my favorite person too.”
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coquettetoji · 6 months
Text
{⭐️} TOJI FUSHIGURO MOODBOARD
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★ general toji hcs ★
— QUEUE WEST COAST BY LANA DEL REY
— let’s just pretend in this world he doesn’t have a son to actually care for yk.
— biggest beefiest juiciest (ok i’m exaggerating) but holy shit this guy is huge. i’m talking mma boxer huge, he takes great pride in his physic. and is guilty of being a gym rat.
— cockiest mf ever but in a hot way, he does that cheek tongue thing unintentionally and omlllllll
— toji definitely wasn’t the smartest in school, neither math smart, science smart or reading smart. he fucked most of his teachers but i mean he passed?
— although he wasn’t very academically smart, his skill in business and negotiating led to him earning a high position for a large financial group. drugs like hand over that amex????
— drives a motorcycle, i’m thinking ducati, as a hobby. 😏😏
— smokes cigarettes and drinks, his fav is hennessy, but other than that he’s a clean man
— was an emo in highschool, we don’t talk about that though. and neither does he.
— multitudes of tattoos across his body, mainly on his chest and arms though.
— his dream job as a highschooler was to open a tattoo parlor. he was surprisingly a good artist when it came to sketches.
— silver chains and silver jewelry, he’s pale so his complexion matches the colors better.
— sarcastic humor that would make kids cry. this guy treats everyone the same as if they’ll understand his humor and that makes him not so great around kids
— has a soft spot for cats, really wants to have a kitten but won’t ever commit to it/taking care of it
— has every single dating app downloaded not to date but just to get validation from everyone who swiped right on him. (gets at minimum 83 swipes per day)
— speaking of, his most used apps on his phone are phone (calls), messages, and instagram to watch his instagram reels 😋
— respectful towards women. although he seems like a d bag he does know how to treat a lady right
— drives a blacked out mercedes benz s class, ofc with tinted windows in case of.. yeah
— the scar running from the middle of his cheek down the side of his lip is from a fight during high school that got violent, he won though don’t worry
— grey/silver/green eyes, with jet black hair. he was genuinely gifted with godly genetics
— when he does smile, his lip corners turn up sharply giving him that joker smile type of look, my legs are wide open
— the most laid back chill guy ever, he doesn’t take life seriously enough for him to actually give a fuck
—6’4. argue with the wall.
— his hands are huge and the veins 😩😩😫😩😫 HEHEHE
— wears black compression shirts or black t shirts with sweat pants all day everyday, it’s his signature look
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— he smells a bit like cigarettes and Maison Margiela Replica Jazz Club, just an overall eye rolling back into head type of scent
— makes dad jokes all the time minus the part of him being an actual dad
— played basketball growing up just in his neighborhood, was good enough to go pro but his grades were ass lol
— he listens to these actual underground rock bands that literally no one has heard of or the sports podcast on the radio like a true dad
— kinda behind on everything going on in the world right now, but it’s okay bc we love toji for it regardless
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💌 new message from mica ‧₊˚✧
my favorite incoming dilf with a midlife crisis 😫
honestly one of my fav boards yet, i tried so hard to find the perfect resemblance of toji and omg the scar too kinda works perfectly
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