Your boyfriend disliked your pink room, his eyes roaming around the area like charcoal. It hurt his toxic masculinity. Everytime he was over he would roll his eyes.

His tall bod barely fit in the cute aesthetic furniture of your house. You were like a strawberry in human form. Feminine. He chuckled, his tone was venomous.

"Stupid plushie." He kicks a few plushies off your soft bed and grabs your favourite Cinamoroll plush, your baby son. And proceeds to smush it with his elbow. How dare he.