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#Constantly buying skins and materials
euseokz · 3 months
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@ eunseok — the forbidden fruit is always better, right ? the only rule is that you have to keep it a secret when you do get a taste of it ;) . cws : semi-public sex (car sex) . unprotected sex . fingering . degradation . use of nicknames (slut) . choking . wc : 1.5k+ . genre : smut - [pt.2]
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OLDER BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND! EUNSEOK who has always been just so interesting to you.
he had always come off as so serious, so unbothered, it made you wonder what you’d have to do to rile him up. obviously you never got close enough to actually try it, sungchan somehow always making sure his little sister never got too intimate with his best friend, oblivious to the fact that him doing that only made you ever so more inclined to want to get to know eunseok better.
it was wrong, and it wasn’t that you didn’t know it, you simply didn’t care enough, because what would sungchan do if he found out, give you a scolding? look at you a bit differently? who cared, it wasn’t like you did at least, so as soon as you got the chance to finally get alone with eunseok, you jumped on it.
sungchan and eunseok had been locked upstairs in your brother’s room all day doing god knows what, all while you sat on the living room couch, eyes constantly drifting towards the stairs or the kitchen, hoping to catch a glimpse of eunseok. you never did, at least not for a while, until you heard footsteps down the stairs, immediately getting up to check, seeing eunseok get his shoes back on by your front door, seemingly ready to leave — so you did what any normal person would do and asked him if that was what he was doing, which was innocent enough you assumed. he denied, saying that he was actually just gonna run out to buy some snacks and come back, so as if you had suddenly been hit with a new found purpose, you asked if you could tag along, also needing to buy some… stuff, and because eunseok wasn’t dumb and he knew the way you looked at him, he agreed, curious as to what your real intentions were — which, all things combined, was what led you to be in his car minutes later, the vehicle parked in a remote parking lot near the grocery store you had supposedly been headed to, while you sat on his lap, with him still on the driver’s seat and your lips pressed against his in a fervent kiss.
it was desperate, more desperate than you expected it to be at least, because you had never even assumed eunseok would be able to retribute your affection. he did though, kissing you just as eagerly, his hands roaming under your shirt and touching against your bare skin, wanting to feel you close to him, pressing you down against his crotch, all so you could feel his growing erection, making you moan softly into his lips. the realization that eunseok might have wanted you just like you wanted him hit you hard, so you got impatient, pulling at his clothes, desperate to get rid of them, eliciting him to separate the kiss and chuckle, reminding you that you were still in public, and that there wasn’t much more you could do.
“no one’s around” you whined, fingers still wrapped in the material of his shirt “if we’re quick no one will know” and how could eunseok say no to that? he did a fast job of unbuttoning his pants and pulling his hardening cock out, being grateful that you didn’t change outfits when you went out and still wore the comfy shorts you had on back home, that making the job of him pushing the soft material to the side to press two fingers up your pussy much easier. eunseok rubbed circles over your clit while stroking his cock, eventually bringing them up and tapping their pads against your bottom lip so you could suck on them, leaving them wet for him to finally push them both into your hole, stretching you out with small, slow thrusts, his eyes fixated on yours, wanting to see the way your expression changed, needing to see the moment your eyes turned glossy with arousal.
eunseok kept going, eventually picking up his pace and starting to bend his fingers to press against that spongy spot inside you. it felt so good, you couldn't help but whine displeased when he pulled out, giving him a pouty look mixed with furrowed brows — which only made him laugh again, telling you to be patient, finally starting to press the tip of his dick against your clit, and then your entrance.
he started lowering you down on him at a languid pace, taking his time until he had finally bottomed out. you both let out a satisfied sigh when eunseok was finally pressed all the way into your pussy, feeling how his dick twitched ever so slightly against your wavering walls, both of you taking a moment to get used to it before starting to move. you planted your hands on his shoulders, your fingers digging into his flesh through his shirt as you looked for some sort of support, flexing your thighs and going up and down, eunseok doing his best to move his hips and match your movements, going up and as you went down and vice versa. it felt so good, the way his cock dragged in and out of you at just the perfect angle, pressing into the right spots inside you, and making you moan eunseok’s name, asking for more shamelessly.
“aren’t you ashamed? acting like a little slut for your brother’s best friend… i wonder what he’d think of you if he knew you were riding my dick right now” he hissed, his tone low, teasing, his eyes fixated on yours, and when you tried to look away mid-sentence, feeling your cheeks heat up at his remarks, eunseok wrapped one hand around your neck, his touch light enough to not hurt but hard enough to slightly cut off your airway, forcing you to stay focused on him.
“i can keep a secret, but can you? dumb little sluts usually can’t keep their mouths shut for too long” he kept going, his free hand gripping your hips and moving you faster against him, your moans growing in volume and your eyes rolling back in pleasure — both because of the absolute filth he was spewing, but also because everything just felt too good.
you could feel your orgasm start to build, the way eunseok forced you down harder on his dick was too intense, and the fact that he kept his hand wrapped around your throat didn’t help in the slightest in making you feel any less lightheaded. when you finally reached your orgasm you screamed louder than you ever had before during sex, so loud eunseok had to let go of your hip and cover your mouth, still choking you and still continuing to fuck you, grinning pleased as he watched you still continue to fuck yourself in his cock even as you struggled, starting to lose your pace as you leveled down again, his movements also coming to a halt.
“so, can you keep a secret or not?” he asked, and you, in your dazed state, simply nodded, watching as he readjusted your shorts just to then pull them down by the front, revealing the inside bit of your panties for him, your pussy sticking to the material with thick strings of your arousal. while one of eunseok’s hand held your bottoms down, the other wrapped around his dick that was still incredibly hard, bulging veins drawing up it’s sides and fat beads of pre sticking to his flushed tip. he started to stroke himself, moving fast, obviously only focused on seeking his own release until he was finally cumming, spilling his seed onto the material of your panties, letting out low groans as he watched himself dirty the fabric even more with his milky cum, watching as it mixed with your arousal when he pressed his tip against your folds, leaving a complete mess on your underwear.
“you better be able to, or sungchan will fuck both of us up” he said through heavy breaths, keeping his promise and going back to your house as if nothing happened, walking in and immediately going into the kitchen to have a normal conversation with your older brother, truly as if he had nothing to hide, as if he hadn’t just fucked you in his car minutes prior. he handed sungchan the snacks like he normally would, nothing about his behaviour suspicious, all while you were still dumb with arousal. your eyes were still glossy and your movements were a bit languid as you plopped down on the couch with a pleased sigh and turned on the tv, even if your brain was miles away from whatever you were supposedly watching — the way your panties were beyond soaked and completely sticking to your pussy a friendly reminder of eunseok’s last words to you before you went into the house, his voice no louder than a whisper when he said “if you can keep it to yourself, i might pay a visit to your bedroom tonight”
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chrollohearttags · 1 year
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erwin is the definition of dilf with no kids like this man is old school as fuck. definitely calls you sweetheart and honey. makes you tea with a side of ibuprofen in the morning because ain’t nothing old about his sex drive baby
look…LOOK! papa erwin? That man is from a lost breed of men we ain’t gone never see in our lifetime 😭 fine, rich and funny. This man SPOILS you so badly, it don’t make sense. Like you said, straight from the old school! I’m talking comes to the doorstep with flowers in hand and kisses it when he greets you. Ain’t no sneaky links or dating apps around him. If he wants to see you, he’s always weary of your time. Once you let him know that schedule is open, oh baby wastes no time preparing to woo you. “I’ve planned a wonderful evening for us. Reservations at that place I heard you talking about at eight and a boat ride around the city? How’s that sound?” And you just wanna cry because where did this man come from?! One thing about Mr. Smith, he stays looking good and smelling even better. Button downs, slacks, gold wristwatches and Tom Ford cologne. Never catch him looking shabby even on an off day. When you go out, it’s the finest that his money can buy. Top shelf wine, fancy entrees..the works. And there ain’t no $200 date debates. He gone run it all up for his lady. Bill splitting? Please. If you pull that purse out in front of him, he’d stare at you like you’d lost your mind! “(Y/N) sweetheart, your money is no good around me. What type of man would make a woman pay for a date?” The evening is literally perfect. The two of you explore the town from his yacht cause yes, big daddy got it like that! you already know. Holding you close and constantly pouring on compliments. It’s not until he gets you alone does that sweet, seemingly shy demeanor fades and that freak he’s been waiting to unleash on the right woman comes out.
you’ll be kissing all over one another, touching and being all handsy. Sitting on the couch in his spacious living room, where he gently disrobes you..layer by layer peeling off that sexy dress and even sexier lingerie underneath, you wore just for him. He’s complimenting you on your skin, telling you how soft and beautiful you are…ugh he’s the sweetest. But that’s nothing when he starts to lick and kiss on your neck, work his hands up your body and massaging between your thighs. You’d expect him to be into more vanilla sex…that even though he was absolutely perfect in every aspect, he had to at least lack in that department. Not the case at all! This man’s head game is literally lethal; putting it in his face and feasting until you start coming all over his mouth. “Don’t run from me, darling. I’m not done yet..” giving you a stern look with his fingers locked into your own. He folds you in about five different positions; from missionary to where he constantly dotes on how beautiful you are. Wiping away your tears when it becomes too much. “Just breathe with me, okay?” To giving some very heavy backshots and even hitting from the side with a hand to your throat. Mr. Smith is no amateur, baby! By the time you finished, your lashes are stuck to your forehead, you’re breathing heavy and have his sheets fucked up. He makes sure you’re okay, doing after care like no other man ever has. Wanting to ensure that you’re fine before you go to sleep. And even wakes you up with breakfast in the morning! Yeah, he’s husband material for sure.
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lionlena · 11 months
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Headcanon: What sleeping position do they most like when you are with them? (Pedro Pascal characters)💤
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Joel Miller
He likes you to be a "big" spoon. He wants you to cuddle up to his back, while he's facing the door/danger. This is how he protects you.
He will prefer this position even in the open space.
He's so used to it that even when you're awake, like lying on the couch, he prefers you behind his back.
He constantly intertwines his hand with yours.
He will purr with pleasure if you kiss his neck just before falling asleep.
He'll always keep you warm.
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Javier Pena
Javi likes you to be a "little" spoon. He loves to wrap his strong arms around you and pull you to his chest. He will kiss the bare skin of your arms, and your neck and whisper sweet words: "hermosa, cariño, mi dulce..."
He loves the smell of your shampoo, so he often falls asleep with his nose in your hair.
He will always make sure you have as many soft pillows as you need.
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Oberyn Martell
Oberyn doesn't have a favorite position. In fact, he's fine with anything as long as you're close to him.
However, he likes it when you fall asleep with your head on his chest. Then, he will stroke your back with one hand and comb your hair with the other.
If he is sad he prefers when you lie on your back and he will put his head on your stomach. If you start stroking his hair you will help him calm down and then he will start kissing your belly.
He always buys you the most expensive blankets and pillows made of the best material.
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Javi Gutierrez
He loves to sleep face-to-face. It's just your face is the last thing he needs to see before falling asleep and the first thing he needs to see when he wakes up.
Of course, he pulls you close to him so that your noses are touching. His hands grip your sides, but never too tight.
Sometimes he also likes when your legs are intertwined together.
Javi G is a cuddly octopus 😍
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Din Djarin
Din treats you like his personal weighted blanket. He sleeps on his back and pulls your whole body to his chest. He needs to feel your weight. Maybe it's because he's used to the weight of the armor?
He loves it when your head is right under his chin.
He always holds you tight, and if he senses you're having a bad dream, he'll start humming softly and won't stop until he's sure you're sleeping peacefully again.
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Ok, now I'm going to sleep ;)
Which of the boys is your favorite?
Headcanon: How will they react to your makeup? (Pedro Pascal and his characters) 👁️👄💅
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fairyhaos · 1 year
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how seventeen would reassure you about your scars
requested by anon: "could u pls do svt w a reader being insecure ab scars on their legs? just any fluffy things <33"
notes: thanks for requesting! i changed it a little to make it so that it's scars in general so hopefully it's more inclusive. i tried to generalise it to include face scars too, but the descriptions do hint mostly of bodily ones
masterlist
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seungcheol:
he's noticed how you're always tugging the material of your clothing in order to cover your scars. ends up sitting you down and having a long and serious conversation with you about where they came from, how you feel, how you'd like to deal with them. holds you the entire time, and then you start tearing up bc he's listening so intently and it's obvious that he cares so much about how you feel about yourself. says that it's okay to be insecure and he'll help you cover them if you need, but he wants you to know that he thinks they only make you even more unique and wonderful
jeonghan:
looks at you like ??? every time you try to hide them from him. doesn't quite get it when you explain to him that it's bc you're insecure about them, bc he thinks that the scars are really cool and are a very special part of you and nothing to be ashamed of at all. asks if he can see them, but understands if you're not ready to show him yet. will touch the area with the utmost care, handling you like you're something so precious and wonderful, because to him—even if he doesn't say it much—you really are. 
joshua:
notices how you're always trying to tug your clothes over to cover your scars, but doesn't say anything bc he respects the fact that you probably don't want to show them to him. later finds out it's bc you're insecure over them, and makes it his mission to show you how beautiful they are. helps you warm up to the idea of gradually being comfortable with showing them to him, runs his fingers over the scarred area in awe, looks you in the eye and says with such overwhelming sincerity that he thinks your scars are nothing to be ashamed of because in fact, they're only proof of your strength and only serve to make you even more beautiful in his eyes
junhui:
when you explain to him that you don't like exposing the areas where you have scars, his face softens in understanding. he was very clumsy, when he was a child, and coupled with all his martial arts he did, he has countless scars of his own, and understands feeling uncomfortable about showing them. will help you buy oversized clothes + tape to cover them up if that's what makes you happy, but makes a point to say that he thinks scars are nothing to be ashamed of and do not take away from what a wonderful person you are
hoshi:
is so confused when you tell him you're insecure about your scars when he asks why you're tugging your clothes to hide parts of your skin from him. says that they're like battle marks to prove that you've survived through tough experiences. doesn't matter whether that experience was falling off the slide or something more serious, bc he believes that all situations like that are important in some way. respects your decision to keep yourself covered up, tells you that if you ever want to tell him about them then he can totally tell you about this one scar on his shoulder that he has too
wonwoo:
knows you have scars. he's never seen them properly, since you've always tried to hide them, but he knows they exist and knows you're insecure abt them so he never tells you he knows. instead, tries to subtly reassure you about them by complimenting you. tells you how beautiful he thinks you are in body and mind, no matter what happens. constantly saying increasing weird things about how he's always going to love you, even if you're secretly an alien or you're the height of an oak tree or you actually have eyes embedded into the back of your skull. it's a little weird, but still rlly reassuring
woozi:
almost ended up crying with you when you confided in him your worries about your scars. he's not very good with comforting people, but he makes sure to let you know that he's grateful you trust him with something that must be very difficult for you to talk about, and holds your hands while he sincerely tells you that, if knowledge of your scars makes anyone look at you differently, then they are not people who are worthy of looking at you at all. because if all they can see are the so-called impurities of your body, then they are nothing but scum of the earth who don't deserve to interact with you ever
minghao:
gently strikes up a conversation with you about your scars when you come to him teary-eyed with worries. tells you all the funny stories about his own scars to take your mind off it and stem your tears. asks if you're comfortable with him seeing your scars, and if you say no then he'll give you a kiss on your hair and tells you he completely understands and there's no rush and in fact, you are never under any obligation to ever show them to him. if you say yes, or say yes later on, he'll press a kiss to his fingertips and then press his fingers to your scars, saying he's helping soothe your emotional ache from the physical marks
mingyu:
you're insecure of your scars??? what??? he's so shocked. thinks that having scars is so fascinating (bc tbh all he has are the mental scars from living with svt) but understands that you might not feel the same way. helps you gradually feel comfortable with him to end up showing them to him, is silent for a good ten seconds before rapidly telling you how incredible and beautiful he thinks they are and that if you ever feel ashamed about them then you can always come to him bc he will be more than happy to gush about how wonderful and amazing he thinks they make you look
dokyeom:
accidentally barged into your room when you didn't have your scars covered, and apologised profusely and immediately. softly asks if you'd like to talk about them with him? listens so intently while you're talking, is completely able to sympathise with your insecurities. hugs you and thanks you for being so vulnerable and trusting with him. will help you with however you want to move forward after this, whether that be continuing to keep them covered or gently boosting your confidence by telling you how genuinely brave and wonderful he thinks you are, scars and all
seungkwan:
has eyes that never miss a thing, so when he notices that you're always tugging down your clothes to hide something from him, he's pouncing on you in your room to very seriously (and also a little cautiously) ask you if there's something that happened to you that you feel particularly insecure about. when you tell him you don't like the look of your scars, his eyes go all sad and he lets you know very solemnly that he completely understands what it's like to not like a part of yourself and that it's perfectly okay. tells you that, to him, your scars are just yet another unique and incredible thing about you that he gets to adore
vernon:
the best sympathiser. is so good at sympathising that he's probably on the level of empathiser. feels all your insecurities while your eyes well up as you're explaining them to him, and ends up having to be the one consoled bc he feels your worries so well. asks you what you want to do about them, nods understandingly if you say you'd still like to keep them covered up, reassuring you that you don't have to go down the route of eventually showing them to people. gives you a long talk about discrimination and learning to love yourself. promises to help you learn how to appreciate yourself for who you are
chan:
never brings up your scars unless you bring them up first. if you have worries about them and you look visibly upset, however, then he'll initiate a conversation. like hansol, gives you an incredibly heartfelt 'love yourself' conversation, and holds your hand the entire time. tells you about the insecurities that he also has about himself, and dries your tears as the conversation ends up diverging into ridiculous childhood memories. but, he still brings the conversation back to the main point: it's okay to not want to show people your scars in case they become unrightfully judging, so long as you are able to love yourself all the same.
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request guidelines
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princessbrunette · 5 months
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actually there's nothing i can think ab but being absolutely sandwiched between both boys at some club, giggly drunk while their hands roam across your skin after you'd persuaded them to come with you n they only agreed cause a little too many were lookin at what was theirs🤭 - 🍓
just the two of them trailing along behind you, jj pretty happy to be there and john b huffing because he wanted a quiet night in with you both. jj’s pulling out his wallet to buy you all shots as soon as you get to the bar, and you’re being a nightmare — bouncing around excitedly in your little dress with everything falling out of it, the two of them having to constantly tug at the material to fix your near wardrobe malfunctions. jj is almost as hype as you by the time you’re dragging them to dance with you, grinding your ass on the blonde whilst givin john b a lil extra love for lightening up and looking after u so well, giving him lil kisses and rubbing down his chest and his tummy and great now they’re both hard when u were just tryna have fun and dance !! 🙄🙄
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ritens · 28 days
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∞ Arisen & Pawn Character Introductions
Original template by @arisenreborn
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Probably will come back to edit this at some point. I wrote it while numbed out of my mind from medicine.
♛ THE ARISEN:
NAME: Raures AGE: 123 (whatever that means) RACE: Elf PRONOUNS: he/him PREFERRED VOCATION: Magic Archer FAVORED GIFTS: fish, selfmade things FAMILY: no longer in the picture. They fell to the dragon.
POSITIVE TRAITS: gentle, keeps his word, patient, hard-working NEGATIVE TRAITS: stubborn, huge flirt, gullible LIKES: fishing, exploring and gathering materials for various craft projects. DISLIKES: rainy muddy days
1. What was their life like before becoming Arisen?
Rau lived with his parents away from other elves. They preferred a more simple but labor-intensive life among humankind’s common folk. Father was a hunter and taught Rau the way of the magic archer. Mother was a mender with a great knowledge of medicinal herb usage. Humans taught Rau archery and thief skills for wilderness survival. He also learned their language.
The family moved towns and villages every 10 years to conceal the aging differences between the two races, essentially avoiding the possibility of becoming chiefs or other figures with higher responsibility.
Raures became Arisen in an attempt at buying time for his parents to escape the burning village. The attempt was unsuccessful but the dragon deemed him worthy.
2. How do they handle being Arisen, and the responsibilities that come with it?
He is mourning the family he lost but even so he does his best to move forward and do what is expected of an Arisen despite his pawn’s chagrin. He doesn’t fully grasp what he’s doing, just feels like he has to.
3. What are their thoughts on Pawns in general?
Pawn rights activist. He finds all of them to be quite cute.
4. What's their relationship like with their main Pawn?
Rau opted to “adopt” an existing pawn to be his main instead of shaping his own perfect image of a pawn to avoid bias. The two have a lot of opposing opinions on matters and Rau has no idea that Lane already has a bit of his own will which he's maintained from master to master throughout his conscious life.
Raures sees Lane's episodes of fear and paranoia as normal pawn behaviour, but treats his companion with care and respect no matter what may come up. He is very fond of Lane and forbids the pawn from traversing the rift to other worlds to assist other Arisen who may call upon him. He doesn’t want Lane to end up as brutalized as he was when Rau first met him.
5. Do they have any interest in being Sovran? What are their opinions on the politics of the world in general?
He’s too much of a farmboy to care much about what goes on in the life of the rich and noble. The prospect of being Sovran seems exhausting to Rau, but if need be, he would take on the role. But avoid spending much time at the palace. It’s also likely Lane would hold him back from all this mumbo jumbo anyway.
6. Who are their love interest(s) and/or closest friends?
Rau’s closest companion is obviously his pawn. He doesn’t form lasting relationships with people aside from the local baker. And he indulges in short lived dalliances now and then.
7. What drew them to their preferred vocation? Do they have history with it? 
He keeps pursuing the way of the Magic Archer as a way to honour his elven roots but isn’t bound to just one vocation. Survival asks for many skills and he hones whatever he can.
8. Do they have any hobbies? Any way of relaxing between all that monster-slaying and traveling?
Suck and fuck. He enjoys fishing a great deal which is a rather fruitful hobby as it’s fun and it provides food. Rau has been making birch skin baskets and other tools since childhood. Originally picked up the craft to avoid buying these items in bigger cities as travel by oxcart often ends up being catastrophic. Now as an Arisen who is constantly on the move, he makes the baskets and leaves them as gifts for the villagers he happens to visit.
♟︎ THE PAWN:
NAME: Lane AGE: appears young adult RACE: human PRONOUNS: he/him PREFERRED VOCATION: Thief FAVORED GIFTS: soft warm clothes, bread INCLINATION: Calm
POSITIVE TRAITS: clever, creative, humble, observant NEGATIVE TRAITS: withdrawn, fearful, unreliable, low self-esteem LIKES: bread, Raures, afternoon naps DISLIKES: stale bread, being manhandled, loud people
1. What was their life like prior to being summoned by their Arisen?
Lane served many Arisen. His first was Amaury from Gransys who summoned him in the shape of their deceased brother. The pawn ended up a tad corpse-like in appearance and while it didn’t bother Amaury at first, it eventually resulted in them becoming uncomfortable once they accepted the fact their real brother is gone for good. By that time Lane had already developed his own bit of will, and sapped enough of the Arisen’s spirit to also develop Amaury’s negative emotions (and even a streak of their golden locks of hair). Lane ended up killing his own master out of fear during an argument.
He didn’t return beyond the rift afterwards and became a street rat who survived by using his strider->thief abilities to steal from people.
Plagued by aimlessness the pawn answered the summons of other Arisen in other worlds who would order him around, sometimes harshly and cruelly. But the pawn desperately desired a sense of purpose and so he went with the flow, ignoring his human aspects as best as he could.
2. What is their opinion on the Arisen? How do they view their relationship?
Lane was stunned when he first saw who had summoned him in Vermund. The face of his second Arisen from ages past in a different world. The first Rau had summoned him and made Lane his main pawn in a similar fashion. He was Lane’s favorite master. But, unfortunately, he fell in battle against the dragon.
As Lane learns more of this Vermundian Rau, he gets more and more determined to prevent the same outcome that his former master was fated to meet. Lane selfishly and desperately clings to Raures and does everything he can to get the Arisen to settle and let someone else take the wheel of the cycle.
3. Is there anything about the Arisen they find troublesome?
The pawn is very much bothered by the Arisen’s frequent visits to the Bordelrie though he won’t say a word about it. The Arisen does get treated to a cold shoulder for it though.
4. What is their specialization and is there any story behind how they cultivated that skill set?
Raures taught Lane elvish language as a bonding exercise. But now Lane uses the skill to listen in on conversations he has no business knowing about.
5. Do they have any thoughts on the politics of the world and their place in it as a Pawn - or how Pawns are treated?
He accepts things as they are for the most part but has his low moments where he wishes more people treated him as something other than a resource.
6. Does their journey with the Arisen change them in any significant way and how?
Though he himself doesn’t realize it, Raures helps Lane calm down and open up to the joys of life outside servitude. Lane learns what fun is, what friendship is and what it means to love unconditionally. He begins to stand up for himself.
7. Is there a reason they chose their preferred vocation?
Lane is a thief in the literal sense of the word. He had to get by while Masterless and he did so by stealing.
8. Do they have any hobbies or preferred past-times? 
During his time on the streets post-Amaury Lane picked up drawing with coal on cobblestones and has since moved on to other mediums and continues to hone his art skills. He usually scribbles sceneries and detailed drawings of plants, but lately has been toying with human silhouettes as well.
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total-lunareclipse4 · 2 years
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🌜We share the same skin🌛
pairing: eddie munson x reader
summary: the soulmate au in which you are connected by what’s physical. Any pain you feel, any injuries you get, any doodles you draw, any sentences you write on yourself, these are all felt and seen by your soulmate, they reflect on their body.
warnings: per usual, none I can think of!
word count: 3.6k ish
For the earliest years of your life, destiny was outweighed by your annoyance towards the reckless person that couldn’t go a day without injuring themselves. Truly, it was such that you’d asked your mom to take you to the store to buy a helmet and some knee pads to give them to this clumsy person upon meeting. 
It wasn’t only the bruises, cuts, and scraped knees. It was the doodles, too. Sometimes it would be things you could tolerate, like stupid fantasy creatures. But it really pissed you off when whoever it was that was doing this to you, wrote down bad words on visible parts of your body that you later on had to cover so as not to get in trouble.
Sometimes you would write back. 
Under your bruises you’d say, “Is there a magnetic force pulling you to the ground?” 
And under the cuss words you’d remind them that; “My mom says that those words aren’t kind.”
But almost always their response would be a stupid comeback or nothing at all. 
Things got better as you grew up. The injuries didn’t happen as often, and you started having more fluent conversations with this person, reaching the point where you began appreciating their sense of humor. Your arms and legs were constantly filled with scrabbles, talks you had with each other. 
Once in junior high, you had been absentmindedly looking outside the window while in a class you weren’t too keen on, when you felt the familiar tickling sensation on your left forearm. 
“S.O.S,” written on that messy handwriting that was growing into you adorned your skin. 
“?” You tried to keep your responses short, leaving more space available to chat. 
“First state to grant women voting rights?” 
“Are you taking a test?” You wrote back.
“Please!!!!” The exclamation marks kept on showing up until you gave in and replied. 
“Wyoming.” 
“Life saver :)” 
You put your pen down and waited for more questions to appear. It wasn’t uncommon for them to solicit your help when it came to academic material, and although you didn’t see it as a big deal, you liked to make them ask for your knowledge instead of just handing it out to them. Especially after all of the pain they’d put you through when you were younger. 
As time went on, you started toying around with the idea of meeting Eddie. It had taken you years to learn his name. For whatever reason, the bond that tied you both together didn’t allow you to know any important details about each other until later on in life. 
You theorized that perhaps you were allowed to know his name and where he was from just now because now you were actually ready to meet each other. 
Opposed to the prior times when you had tried to tell him your name but realized that while you had written it down on your skin, it hadn’t appeared on his. 
That was until the idiot got his first tattoo. 
It was a warm afternoon, the kind in which you don’t feel like doing anything besides getting home and napping the hotness away. You were about to cross the line towards the land of dreams when a sharp, piercing pain awoke you.
Looking down at your arm, you saw a few black incoherent lines forming. Quickly, you darted for a pen and wrote on your pain-free arm. 
“What the hell are you doing?” You waited a couple of seconds, which then became minutes, but nothing in response. 
Inspecting the bizarre black lines once again, you realized you could make out the outline of a bat. Suddenly, it hit you. 
Eddie had been drawing those bats on him for months, testing out different placements and styles. When you had asked about it, he had told you that he was planning on getting them permanently on his skin, and that he wanted to see if he liked how they looked before making a decision. 
Even being something you had talked about, you didn’t think he would actually get them tattooed without telling you first. 
You still weren’t getting any answers from him, but since it was halfway done anyway, you left it alone. Not that the thought of tampering with it and dumping black ink all over your arm so he couldn't get it done didn’t cross your mind.
But if this was something you would be forced to have on you for the rest of your life, then you supposed you should let the artist finish their job and yell (write in all capitals) at Eddie later. 
After a few hours, you finally felt his ticklish response. 
“Sorry, couldn’t reply, was getting a tattoo.” Somehow, his response only made your anger grow. 
“Figured. Why would you do that without consulting with me?”
“Didn’t know I had to ask for your permission to get something on my body?”
“It affects my body too?” Even though *technically* you couldn’t hear his tone, you knew you didn’t like it. 
“Wait, it appeared on you?” 
“We share injuries, pain, scars, drawings and words we write on each other but you didn’t think we would share this?”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think this would happen.” And again, even without hearing his voice, it was clear that he was being sincere. So you opted to scribble a quick message letting him know you were going to bed to cool off and proceeded to sleep for the rest of the night. 
After the incident, he offered to cover them up with something chosen by you, since he now knew your link was deeper than what he had estimated.
But you made it clear that it hadn’t been the bats that had annoyed you, it was the lack of consideration. To be truthful, you loved the bats, you loved them even more because they were his design. But you didn’t appreciate having woken up in pain without a prior warning. 
You had a long conversation about it, one that required taking quick showers in between to wash off the ink and be able to replace it by new one. 
You had made it clear that he could get whatever tattoos he wanted, only if he let you know beforehand. And that you reserved the right to veto any of his ideas if you didn’t like them. Although after Eddie’s sixth tattoo, you didn’t think that was going to happen. They weren’t necessarily your style, but the thought of carrying his art with you everywhere you went, well, it was one of those things you thought about often because it made you smile.
After that, meeting each other got subconsciously postponed, it wasn’t a thought that had come to you rationally, but you were waiting for him to mature just a little more before flying to Hawkins. 
High school went by, and you were soon faced with the tsunami of responsibilities that being a senior involved. Were you taking the SAT’s? Were you going to college? If so, which school were you attending? 
When standing in front of several university pamphlets given to you by your career counselor, you noticed how all of the options you had picked out were located in or near Indiana. 
Eddie Munson had infested your mind. A decision this big, one that would impact the rest of your life could not be made based on a guy you’d never even met before. It was impossible to plan a future when you didn’t even know how or if he fitted in it. 
You also had no idea of what his plans were. Why were you intending on moving closer to him when he could be moving away? There were so many interrogatives, so many conversations you needed to have that were too long to have them in writing. 
So, you grabbed a pen, scribbled something down, and went to bed. The amount of worrying and thinking you had just done had exhausted you. 
Meanwhile, while you slept, Eddie kept awake all night reading over and over again the message that had appeared on his right thigh. 
“I’m flying over to your town. Gotta meet and talk about the future and shit. Sleep tight :)”
Spending two hours in the bathroom wasn’t how you envisioned the start of this day going. You had gone through every single hairstyle and still couldn’t seem to find one that you liked. Prior to that, you had spent at least one more hour trying on every single item in your closet, until finding something you were kind of satisfied with. 
It was stupid, you knew that. Most of today you would spend it on a plane, but the knowledge of who would be waiting for you once you got out of the plane was the reason why you had woken up extremely early to deal with your appearance. 
Walking into your room, you disposed of the long-sleeved shirt you were wearing to put on one that didn’t cover your bat tattoo. It was the one you liked the most, and you usually showed it off. 
“Okay, now I’m done. Definitely no more changes after this one,” you whispered to yourself. Grabbing your bags, you exited your home and rode to the airport with your mother. She had been a little skeptical at first since you insisted on going on your own, but she was happy, nonetheless. Happy for you to finally meet your soulmate. 
Once you arrived, you went into autopilot while going through airport security and such. Anxious to be on the plane and zone off for the rest of the flight while listening to “Powerslave,” the latest album Eddie had you listening to. 
You had the tape on repeat, analyzing each song. When Eddie gave you music to listen to, you took your time with it, wanting to understand the meaning behind it all. It made you feel closer to him, as if this was a way for you to know him better. 
Then, that tickling feeling you (usually) loved made you look down at your arm.
“Got on the plane safe?” It was a little annoying how this guy you had never met before was able to give you butterflies by doing the bare minimum, like checking in on you. 
“Yeah, I have my Iron Maiden tape with me to keep me company.”
“Cool. You’ll have to tell me what you thought of it once we see each other. Can’t wait!” Reading the last part over and over, you drifted off to sleep. 
You could feel his piercing stare on you. Maybe it was part of the cosmic connection you two shared, although you hadn’t heard other soulmates talking about anything like what you were experiencing right now. But you knew exactly where he was and who he was the minute you stepped foot on the mechanical stairs. 
Just a little longer and you’d reach the bottom, just a little longer and you’d see him face to face. To avoid the awkwardness of it all, you didn’t look back, although you allowed him to stare at you. Maintaining uncomfortable eye contact as the stairs brought you to his level wasn’t something you wanted to experience, even if it was with the person you were destined to spend the rest of your life with. 
So you concentrated on every and anything else. The messages he’d written you throughout the day, the ones you’d written back. Your heavy bags, the shoes of the lady standing in front of you. How you had seemingly taken the longest flight of stairs in the country. 
He was smiling, you didn’t see his face, but he was smiling. It was a common occurrence to be the first one to know when he accidentally bit his tongue or got a papercut. 
But this was entirely new, an addicting sensation, one you were sure you would never get tired of. His joy was reflected on you, and yours on him. Even as intimidating as it was, knowing that you now did not only share what one could consider to be superficial, but the important things too, you were ecstatic to find out that there were still things about your relationship that were new to you both. Things that could only be amplified as you actually developed a face to face bond. 
Your feet hit the floor and you felt him moving through the crowd, not only that, but after deciding to glance upwards, you actually saw him walking over towards you. His face was unfamiliarly known territory. One you had never laid eyes upon before today, but one you were sure you could esculpt perfectly if you tried to. 
“Hey,” he spoke. It was such a casual greeting, one an outsider could mistake by an old and common salutation instead of the first words being spoken between soulmates. 
“Hi.” The grin on your face was as wide as ever. 
“Can I?” He didn’t finish his sentence, he didn’t even gesture at what it was that he was asking for, but you knew exactly what it was that he was requesting. 
Nodding, you let go of your bags and opened your arms slightly, prepared to welcome his embrace. 
Hugging him was like the feeling you experienced whenever he talked to you through your skin amplified by the number of stars there are in the night sky
Ticklings all over. Fireworks imploding. The universe collapsing in on itself. 
If that’s how being held by him felt, you could only imagine how others things would make you feel. 
It was so bizarre, feeling so strongly about a person who in theory was a stranger, a stranger you grew up connected to. A stranger who you were used to talking to everyday, a stranger who stood before you. 
You had no control over your destiny, no choice when it came to who you decided to spend eternity with. It should be a matter of rage, of rebellion against such injustice, but having Eddie’s arms around you was enough proof to know that the universe was wise. 
“You should wash your hair more often,” he said, nose sniffing your head. There it was, the teasing. 
“Shut up, I don’t take advice from someone who uses a 3 in 1 shampoo.” 
He chuckled, creating a memory you would come back to often, of that you were certain.
 You pulled apart, instantly missing him. 
“Wait, before I forget, I have something for you,” you said as you opened one of your bags. You retrieved the items and handed them to him. 
“Sweetheart, I’m afraid my head isn’t going to fit in this. And these knee pads look awfully small, too.” 
“Well, yeah, I got those for you when we were like five years old. So you’d stop injuring yourself so much.” 
He stared at the objects for a few seconds, coming up with something. 
“You know, maybe if I add a little carton here and there, I can make the helmet bigger.”
“You like them then?” 
“Love them. Even if it was a selfish gift,” he chuckled. 
“Hey!” You pretended to be offended.
“Admit it! You got them so you wouldn’t have to deal with my injuries! Not because you were worried about my safety!”  Instinctively, he grabbed your bags and together you walked towards his van, bickering about the true reason behind your gesture. It felt so rutinary, so comforting, so couple-like.
If you had to describe the ride to his home in one word, you would go for noisy. Between the talking, the laughter, and the ungodly loud music coming from the car speakers, a symphony of love was composed. 
It was terrifying how hard you were falling. Maybe part of the things you were feeling were old sentiments, ones that had bloomed years ago, but that you hadn’t been able to pick apart because there wasn’t a face to associate them with. Either way, you were sure this was the best decision you had made in a long time. 
“We have arrived,” Eddie said before exiting the vehicle and going to open your door for you. 
“Thanks,” you giggled, a sound your soulmate hadn’t stopped hearing since meeting you. 
You both entered his trailer and he guided you to his room. It was so full of him, items that had Eddie written all over them, items you wanted to inspect closely for hours. 
“I tried my best to clean up, even got rid of the rats for you.” 
“Oh, I’m getting the VIP treatment, I see. Did you kill the cockroaches too?”
“I’m afraid that’s gonna run you a little extra. Bugs extermination comes with the platinum package, do you wish to upgrade?” 
“That depends, how much extra are we talking about here?” 
“Mhh, a date or two with the local freak,” he replied, collapsing onto his bed. 
You took a few seconds to (fakely) consider his offer. 
“I’ll make you one better, four dates and a prospect for infinite future ones if I end up liking you enough.” He sat back up, meeting your line of sight. 
“You got yourself a deal.” 
So far, you hadn’t seen much of Hawkins yet, but it was obvious that the stereotypes associated with small towns fit this one perfectly.
You weren’t exactly sure where Eddie would take you to experience all this “excitement” he had promised you considering how dull your surroundings looked, but you were sure that you two could fill tax returns together and still have a blast. 
He’d offered to stay in today, to let you rest after your trip. But you didn’t want to rest, you wanted to go out and see all the places that he loved, to see how he lived. 
“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going now?” You had his black bandana wrapped around your eyes, per his request. An unreasonable request you had argued, considering you weren't familiar with the place and had no way of knowing where you were heading based on your surroundings, but one you followed through with anyway. 
“Nope, you’ll have to wait a little longer. We’re almost there, I promise.” 
“I have trust issues when it comes to you.” 
“Okay, for the last time, I never said I was a good cook.” 
“Yes, you did!” You exclaimed. “You said you were the greatest cook I would ever meet after I told you I had caused a small fire in my kitchen after trying out a fancy recipe I saw on T.V!”
“You have no proof of that ever happening.”
“I do! I took a polaroid of my arm when you wrote that just in case you turned out to be shit in the kitchen, which, you are! Thank you very much for overcooking dinner.” 
“You took a picture of it?” His tone and feelings behind it changed drastically, it wasn’t just flirtatious teasing, he was now feeling genuine intrigue.
“Yeah, I have a few pictures of things you’ve said, others I’ve written down elsewhere. I also take pictures of the things you draw on yourself before you wash them off.” 
“Unless they’re ugly,” you added jokingly. 
“You’re such a sap,” he said, and you felt how moved and loved you had made him feel. 
It turned out to be a music store. Eddie had brought you to his favorite music store. Not only that, he had asked one of the workers to put a box aside full of tapes he’d picked out for you. 
After going through the box (and maybe crying a little although you turned around so Eddie wouldn't see you) you kept browsing through the place, with your soulmate by your side. A few more tapes caught your eye, and he encouraged you to put them inside the box as well. 
Time flew by and the guy working the registry let you know that they were closing soon, and that it would be a good idea for you two to check out. You went to grab your wallet, but Eddie stopped you from doing so. 
He leaned in closer and said to you; “I got this, it’s the least I can do after you flew all this way.” 
Thanking him, you grabbed the heavy bag the employee gave you and walked back out to his van. You snuck your face inside the bag and read over the titles once again before grabbing “Defenders of the Faith” and shoving it inside the cassette player. 
The volume had been set pretty high priorly, but you couldn’t help but jump a little when “Love Bites” started blasting, drowning you in the music. 
Eddie looked at you entertained, staring without muttering a sound.
“What?” You asked. 
“Nothing, I’m just looking at you.” 
“Why?” You asked, giggling. You tried your best to ignore the wave of nerves that had just hit you. 
“Working up the nerve to do what I’m about to do next,” he breathed out, “can I? 
And just like before, he didn’t have to finish the sentence for you to know what he wanted to do. You nodded, and he slowly made his way to your lips, keeping a few inches between you two before closing the gap.
The angle was a bit awkward, so he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you closer to him, placing you on his lap. 
One of his hands stayed on your waist, while the other went to grab one side of your face. Your fingers were lost in his curls, twisting and playing with them. 
He slid his tongue inside your mouth, slow, but firm. With the hold he had on your waist, he pulled you towards him even more, not wanting there to be any space between you both. 
And there, lightheaded and utterly happy, you realized you had been right before. 
If hugging him felt like being at the center of a volcanic eruption, then kissing him felt like tasting heaven.
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mylittlesecrethaven · 1 month
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How Relationships With Them Would Be: Pt 2
OH MY GOODNESS IT'S BEEN TOO LONG!
Anyway, let's do this.
I'm finishing this up.
Even though nobody asked me to.
Vice housewarden time. (Also, I know some of the dorms don't have vice housewardens, but you know what I mean by these characters. Please don't comment or message or whatever and be like "Um, actually--" Cause I know. Don't worry. :3 Thanks tho)
Trey:
Ngl, perfect boyfriend material. I can't really see anything that would go bad unless you're just super stubborn about your teeth brushing habits. I think that's the only deal breaker for him.
MC: But I don't wanna brush my teeth now! I'm going to bed.
Trey: Do you know what can happen to your teeth by skipping even one brushing session?
MC: Don't know, don't care.
All in all, the only way this wouldn't work out is if you are the asshole.
Ruggie:
Pfft- You fucking wish. I mean, if you get close enough, maybe. But this boi would probably rather trick you and snatch your shit than try to date you. Of course, even if you did get close, he'd tease you to no end. (But if y'all were dating, I'd say he'd be a pretty ok boyfriend)
MC: Um... where's my wallet?
Ruggie: Oh, I used it to buy food.
MC: Oh, how much food?
Ruggie: As much as I could get with whatever was in there.
MC: ...
Ruggie: And then I sold the wallet for some quick cash.
MC: ....my wallet....
Yeah, you could never keep anything valuable.
Jade:
Unless you're into sadism, you'd fucking die. Also, if you hate mushrooms, good fucking luck. And if you piss him off? You're family would never find you again. I swear, being with this guy would always have you on edge.
MC: Um... Jade? I may have.... sorta.... kinda.... destroyed one of your terrariums... On accident though!
Jade: *silent stare*
MC: ....Jade?....
Jade: *creepy smile thing he does*
(And then MC either goes missing, gets left up on a mountain, or has to work all of Jade's shifts at Monstro Lounge for a month while also helping maintain all of his garden shit)
So yeah. Unless you're ok with constantly being watched for weakness or blackmail, I'd say don't date this psycho.
Jamil:
I mean.... maybe? He's super weird about trust, so even getting close to him would be hard. If y'all are close, I'd say it'd be ok. He probably wouldn't have as much time for you as you'd like since he has to deal with Kalim all the time. Otherwise, I'd say he's ok.
MC: Can we go on that date tomorrow?
Jamil: No. Kalim is hosting another party.
MC: Again? He just had one yesterday, and I've been trying to get us to go on a date for weeks.
Jamil: Can't. Sorry.
Kalim would honestly be your biggest problem while actually dating Jamil. I'd say he'd be almost as good as Trey, otherwise.
Rook:
Another maybe. Sorta like how Jamil has to deal with Kalim, Rook is obsessed with Vil, so you'd kinda have to fight for attention. Honestly, you'd have to fight for his attention with everything. If you're a dull person, you stand no chance in pulling his eyes and actually dating him. However, unlike Jamil who has pretty much no choice in having to deal with Kalim, you'd have to live with the fact that Rook actually chooses other stuff over you.
MC: I made this cool art piece!
Rook: And it is beautiful! *goes back to watching Vil*
MC: That's.... that's it?
Rook: *still watching Vil* It is an amazing work of art! *pause* Oooo! Vil looks stunning today!
I feel like you'd have to have really high self-esteem to deal with being showed up by other stuff. It'd honestly really suck.
Ortho:
No
Lilia:
Honestly? Probably an ok boyfriend. As long as you're also a prankster, at least. If you're too dull or very lowkey, he'd probably gloss right over you. But if you're bubbly and hyperactive like him? Then yes. It'd also work if you're lowkey, but spook easily. I'd say he's alright.
Lilia: *appears behind MC* Hello!
MC: *nearly jumps out of their skin*
Lilia: *laughing*
MC: Not funny!
Not as good as Trey, but I think he'd be fine otherwise. The only big issue would be secrets, so if you aren't ok with your partner keeping a few private details to themselves, Lilia probably wouldn't like you as much. (Or maybe he'd like you more cause he'd get to tease you with it, but you might not like it yourself)
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angelicyouth · 11 months
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Parallel ; Chapter 1
⇢ pairing: stan marsh x mccormick!reader
⇢ genre: fake dating ; hogwarts AU
⇢ synopsis: ❝Transferring to Hogwarts during your fifth year, you were excited at the prospect of all the new potential eye candy to choose from. That dream gets crushed, however, when your childhood enemy impulsively claims you as his girlfriend.❞
⇢ [AO3 link] ; [series masterlist] ; [next]
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The tips of your fingers fiddle with the thick but coarse material of the black cloak thrown over your frame, your eyes flitting around as you felt embarrassingly out of place. You were standing amongst a sea of first-years in front of the imposing doors of the Great Hall, each one of them vibrating in place with an abundance of excited energy as they eagerly awaited their sorting.
Your body unconsciously hunches in on itself to blend in a little better but your actions prove to be futile as the difference in age grants you at least a whole entire foot on the tallest child there. This is attributed to the fact that for the first four years of your magical education, you attended the American wizarding school of Ilvermorny because of a scholarship that was granted to you for the high marks you achieved in your previous muggle classes.
This was extremely helpful to your family as growing up, your financial status has always been less than ideal. Your mother raised you and your siblings on her own, usually having to resort to leaving at the dead of the night to make additional income away from her more appropriate part-time jobs during the day time. 
You absolutely hated it when these occasions took place at whatever location your family was oftentimes temporarily housing, your mother casting you and your siblings a soft yet apologetic look as she placed all of you in the small closet to hide from sight. The sounds of strange men that you've never met fill the space of the cramped room as you huddle in closer to all of your older brothers, their small arms reassuringly wrapping around your frame as you patiently wait to be let out.
When the light of the room greets all of you hours after they leave, your mom will always invitingly open her arms out for all of you to gather into. As she plants gentle kisses onto the soft locks of hair resting against your heads, you will always note the new smell of musky cologne, cigarettes, and alcohol that she has taken up from her previous ministrations.
Your tiny hands will clench into tights fists when you see the smattering of vivid red and deep purple freshly developed against her skin, but as a child you’ll forget about the sight the following day when she buys you and your siblings food, much needed school supplies, and new shoes or clothes to replace all of your worn out ones. It’s as if those nights are wiped out from your memory when Carol McCormick affectionately smiles at you and your brothers, her brightly dyed hair casting a red halo around her soft features.
Your mother was absolutely beguiling—her beauty so stunning in its capacity that it was only a shame that life treated her so cruelly.
With the line of work she takes up when the darkness of the night hides any unassuming business she partakes in, it wasn’t a surprise when years came by that you and your brothers took note of how unnatural it was that you were all born right after the other. It didn’t take much thinking to realize that you all had different dads from your moms secondary occupation, every one of your siblings and you sharing one distinct physical feature from your mom: blonde hair.
Years later, you’ll wonder to yourself if the reason your mother constantly maintains her dyed red locks is so that you and your brothers won’t be associated with her. The lengths she goes through to protect you and your siblings from the juvenile bullying of other children if their parents were to ever find out who your mom was is the reason you devote yourself to excelling at school.
It is then that you vow to give back to your mom and all that she has done for you tenfold, starting with easing the financial burden on her shoulders with the use of scholarships. When Hogwarts extended one of their own after seeing your remarkable Quidditch playing at Ilvermorny, you jumped at the opportunity to be able to reunite with your brothers. 
You feigned ignorance when you heard your moms wet and shaky voice when you told her the news over the phone, your hands clenched tightly over your cellular device. It hurt your heart at the way the older woman was more ecstatic at the prospect that all her babies will be together again than the financial implications your words brought.
As long as I’m alive, you’ll always have someone who’s proud of you in everything, mom. 
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
Your eyes meticulously studies every crack on the brick wall to your left in an effort to ignore the curious stares of the students around you, not wanting to give them the opportunity to ask why an overgrown 11 year old was in their midst. Thankfully, the internal awkwardness is interrupted when an old man with a scraggly white beard steps up to the podium to address the dining hall of students.
Clearing his throat, he delicately taps his wand against his throat to amplify his speech. “Welcome back, fellow students of Hogwarts. And, of course, a very special welcome to our newest additions.”
He tilts his head towards the crowd of students you’re standing with before continuing and you internally repeat a mantra of please don’t draw attention to me’s. But of course, nobody ever hears a McCormick’s prayers.
“You all may have noticed that we have an especially interesting newcomer here tonight. Hogwarts is pleased to open its arms to our first Ilvermorny transfer student in over a century… Please welcome Miss Y/N McCormick!”
Grandly gesturing towards you, he beams down at the student he previously mentions and raises both of his arms to prompt a round of applause. The students obey at the nonverbal gesture and soon the hall is filled with a cacophony of polite clapping, your eyes lowering to the ground at the attention.
As the headmaster continues his speech with a few more carefully spoken words of international connections and what it meant to be a gracious host, you begin to tune out the droning to think about what house you were going to be sorted in. Not realizing that everyone was waiting on you to step forward, an impatient first year tugs on your sleeve and points at the podium when your attention is transferred to the kid.
An older witch was patiently standing there, her worn hands carefully clutched around a leather hat. “I said: please come up and be sorted, Y/N.”
Fighting back a blush, you dip your head down in embarrassment as you make your way to the elevated platform. You decided to count your graces and thank Merlin that you at least didn’t trip on your haste to get sorted as the witch motions for you to sit down to face the room of watching students.
You wait with a bated breath when you feel the leather material of the hat touch the crown of your head, a charged silence enveloping the room in anticipation for the first sorting of the night. An overwhelming smell of hickory overtakes your senses as your fingers begin to fiddle with the rings adorning your fingers, ready for the relic to delve into conversation like it was rumored to.
However, the second it touched just one lock of hair, it made a firm decision. “SLYTHERIN!”
Gasps sharply echo out into the room with the promptness of the sorting, your eyes frantically moving from face to face until you found that of your brothers. They were all seated together with students wearing identical colors of honeyed gold and a badger on their crests, their expressions morphed into one of absolute shock.
The features of your face mirrors theirs until an obnoxious laughter cut through the tension, your eyes rolling at the sight of Cartman finding amusement at the siblings' inner turmoil. You stand up in indignation, a small pout on your face as you forcibly trudge your body forward and sit next to the still cackling teen.
“Shut the fuck up, fatass!”
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
There’s a multitude of voices surrounding your seated position as your quill rapidly glides across your piece of parchment paper, your hand beginning to cramp up from how quickly you copy Clyde’s History of Magic homework. The skin between your eyebrows have been permanently creased as your eyes strain to make out the brunette’s sloppy handwriting, a small headache forming at deciphering the scrawl of chicken scratch.
A piece of perfectly seasoned broccoli hits your soft pink lips, your mouth automatically opening to chew on the vegetable your brother feeds you from his own fork. Cartman slams his mug down onto the wooden structure of the dining table you’re all crowded around, your hand seamlessly guiding your homework to the side so that he doesn’t get a drop of pumpkin juice on it. 
“Stop fucking babying her! This is why she turned out to be such a lame-o pussy!” You wince when a smattering of food flies out of the larger teen’s greasy mouth, landing on the paper despite your efforts to shield it from his lunch.
“I’m not fucking babying her! I’m just making sure she gets some food in her stomach before you eat the whole fucking lot of it, you fat fuck!” Kenny aggressively pipes up as his fork fights over a piece of apple pie with Cartman’s despite there being other slices on the serving plate.
“You know, a diet that’s high in fruit and vegetables makes semen taste better.” Your other brother, Butters, cheerily says around a mouthful of food from across the table. 
Everyone, even you, pauses at their current tasks as you all take a glance at the obliviously happy blonde for his random tidbit of information. 
“Thanks… If I ever suck dick, I’ll keep that in mind.” Stan sarcastically says, his deadpan voice cutting through as he pauses from his last minute studying in hasty preparation for the Charms test he has soon.
“Agh! Why do you even know that?!” Tweek, the last of your brothers, yelps in incredulity at his younger sibling’s words. Butters was born right before you whereas Kenny was the oldest, and the rest of your friends (all of which are, unfortunately, boys and the ones you grew up with) are all older than you, too.
The addressed blonde just carelessly shrugs his shoulders, his attention more focused on carefully applying strawberry cream cheese on his toasted bagel. He innocently yet unnecessarily continues, “Semen is also high in protein. It just seemed useful to know.”
“Woah. I know our family’s broke as shit but we’re not that broke that we’d have to resort to eating—”
“Enough! We’re all still fucking eating here, holy shit!” Kyle yelps out, a hand shooting out from across the table to physically stop Kenny’s lack of decorum when other students begin sending your group judgemental stares.
In response, the blonde’s tongue takes a mischievous swipe at the offending palm in front of his mouth. His raucous laughter is made even clearer when the curly-haired teen hurriedly yanks his hand back to wipe the saliva down his uniformed slacks in disgust.
“You say that as if it’s gross but we’ve all literally seen you eat food off of the ground for a Chinpokomon doll, Kyle.” Tolkien mumbles around his mug of tea, his eyes closed in a desperate effort to have a calm afternoon before classes resume for the rest of the day.
“Fuck off! I was fucking 8 and you know how much I used to like Pengin!” The red-head desperately tries to defend his past actions, a vivid shade of red quickly making its way across his cheeks.
“No, you didn’t. You were a fucking poser, is what. You weren’t even into the hype when the show was popular, remember?” Craig condescendingly snickers, an arm thrown around Tweek’s shoulder as he carefully tucks a stray lock of hair behind his boyfriend’s ear.
Before Kyle can further defend his questionable honor, someone gently taps onto your shoulder from behind and you mentally groan at the time this social interaction will take away from your copying. Turning your body around the bench it's seated at, however, greets you with the well-welcomed sight of a pretty Ravenclaw with silky black hair, attractively soft features, and a beautiful smile to go with it.
Eye candy, your mind supplies as your eyes greedily drink in the sight. The girl standing in front of you delightedly giggles with a pretty blush as you shamelessly take the time to check her out.
“Hi! I’m Wendy Testaburger and I was wondering if you wanted to go to the library tonight and—”
“She doesn’t!” Everyone confusedly turns their head at the source of noise, all eyes landing on Stan as he abruptly interrupts the conversation.
“Wha—” This time, he cuts off your words as he inelegantly heaves his body out of his seat to walk around the table and lightly push Wendy aside.
One of his arms wraps around your shoulders, his larger form slightly shielding your body away from the other girl. “We have a study date for that Herbology exam. Don’t we, babe?” 
The ravenette casts you an attractive smile, his pearly white teeth making an appearance as his hands slightly tighten its hold when your eyebrows begin to crease in confusion. When your lips slightly part to form a response, the deep baritone of his voice cuts you off yet again. 
“If you want to be her friend then maybe some other time, hm? Because she’s mine, Wendy. And I don’t take too kindly to people taking shit from me.” Cast upon the aforementioned Ravenclaw, the quirk of his lips turns from delighted to threatening in its charm. 
The raventte averts her eyes when they make contact with Stan’s, the slight curve on his face devoid of warmth.
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
“What the fuck was that, Marsh! Huh?!” You slam the towering teen against the wall with your wand pointed threateningly at the nape of his throat, your irritation quickly mounting when the ravenette doesn’t so much as flinch when it painfully digs deeper into his neck.
“Listen—” His voice is as nonchalant as ever and you hurriedly pull your body away from his before you’re actually tempted to hex the annoyingly calm expression off of his face.
“No! You listen! A cute girl takes the initiative to ask me out and you take that shit and stomp on it with your stinky fucking shoes!” Your slender fingers begin to tug at the locks of hair adorning your head as an outlet for your anger before you internally curse at picking up Tweek’s habit and forcing yourself to stop.
The Gryffindor’s larger hand grabs at your still lifted wrist, “Would you just shut the fuck up! You ask me what I did but when I answer, you interrupt! Make up your fucking mind, McCormick!”
When you don’t pull your hand away from his hold, he softly trails his fingers down your wrist so that he can gently interlock your fingers together. His voice is low as he continues, “Look, I want to make a proposition…”
“Am I going to like this?”
“No, probably not.”
For fuck’s sake.
You let out a tired sigh, unnecessarily dragging it out just to be dramatic and to emphasize how much you already did not like where this was going. Stan just rolls his eyes as he lets go and crosses his arms, lazily leaning his taller figure on one of the desks of the empty classroom he spontaneously dragged you in.
The Gryffindor hastily left the Great Hall before your friends and brothers could say anything at the self-proclaimed revelation, taking you along with him as you scrambled to grab your things. You internally weighed out your options as you soothed the crease on the skin in between your eyes, deciding whether or not you should slam the door on the ravenette’s face and take satisfaction at abandoning him when he was begging or figure out what the fuck was going on.
Curiosity won out in the end as you prop yourself up on the tabletop of a desk, your legs leisurely swinging back and forth as you quirk an expectant eyebrow. The other teen takes that as his cue to quickly close the small distance between you both, positioning his arms on either side of your body to cage you in on the chance you might change your mind and leave.
You roll your eyes at the theatrics as your hand blindly reaches into the pocket of your robe, your fingers pulling out a lollipop to stick into your mouth. Mumbling around the hard candy, you lazily lean your body back with the palm of your hands holding your body upright for support.
“Alright, asshole. Talk.”
Stan’s shoulders are tense as he looks down at you, a slight frown marring his otherwise handsome face. From your peripherals, you can see his hands curl in on themselves into tight fists as his jaw tightens, your attention momentarily distracted by the prominent veins running along his arms and onto the back of his hands until he speaks up.
“Let’s pretend to date.”
In your surprise, your mouth slightly drops open to which the Gryffindor seizes the opportunity to swipe your lollipop and stick it into his own mouth. He smirks around the flavored crystal as you pout at the sudden loss, the teen quickly dodging your extended hands as he resumes his first position against a desk in front of you. 
When you pull the stick away from his mouth, your triumphant grin quickly drops when the sound of him chewing on the crushed sweetness disrupts the quietness of the room. His eyes flicker with amusement when he holds eye contact with you, smugly biting down on what was once the hard shell of your lollipop.
Your hands frustratedly clench around the lone stick, Stan’s tongue darting around his plump lips to rid it of the explosion of crushed, strawberry-flavored crystals. The stick of white birchwood in your possession crumples in on itself from the force you exert, the ravenette further prompting annoyance when he obnoxiously opens his mouth to show you that your lollipop is no more.
“Why the fuck would I help you after you just did that?!” You bite out, your feet indignantly touching the tiled floor to flee the scene.
“I’ll buy you whatever you want at Honeydukes during our upcoming trips to Hogsmeade if you help me out.” His calm offer stills your turned body, the enticing proposition capturing your attention once more.
There’s a stretch of silence as you glare at him, Stan huffing out a breath and quietly offering further information. “Wendy’s my ex from first year. Help me make her jealous and when I get her back, we can break up.” 
You silently watch him for a moment, your eyes calculating both the pros and cons to this arrangement. “You mean I can break up with you when we’re done. I don’t get dumped, Marsh. Especially from someone with a face like yours.”
Predictably, Stan rolls his eyes as he opens his mouth but you cut him off before he can get even a syllable out. You won’t admit this out loud but you find petty satisfaction at interrupting him when that’s all he’s been doing to you this afternoon.
“And, you owe me any one request I make after this is all over.”
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
It starts off with your newly appointed boyfriend charming pieces of scrap paper in the classes you both share. He’d take the time to send off a flying paper bird to your desk in an extremely flamboyant fashion, to which all the students in the classroom could see when the current period’s Professor wasn’t paying attention. 
Although they weren’t filled with proclamations of poetic love, they still never failed to make you giggle at how cheesy the pick-up lines within them were. Some of the memorable ones read:
You must play Quidditch—I know a Keeper when I see one.
Are you a Nimbus 2000? Because you’re constantly sweeping me off of my feet.
Did you survive the Avada Kedavra curse? Because you’re drop-dead gorgeous.
Your friends and brothers were still wary about the authenticity of the newest development from your previously not-so-great relationship with one another (the two of you have a long-running history of getting into fistfights on top of screaming matches when you were just kids). Understandably so, this made your competitive boyfriend aspire to greater lengths at his declarations of love to prove them all wrong.
It was lunch again at the Great Hall, the rest of you gathered around a table despite the difference in your houses. You were all strangely quiet, instead preoccupied with stuffing your mouths with food as Quidditch practice or exams has taken a great deal of all your energies recently. 
Thump!
Lifting your head, you see a little red envelope sitting to the side of your half-eaten plate. Everyone diverts their attention from their lunch as they watch the owl begin to fly away, the shared confusion causing similar expressions to mount on your faces. Letters were delivered during breakfast and seeing that it was the afternoon meant one thing: this was sent from another student.
“It’s a Howler.” Kyle speaks up from right beside you when you continue to stare, as if you didn’t already know.
“I’m aware, Ky. But from who?” You roll your eyes as you mutter your confirmation at the redundant information, your eldest brother quirking an eyebrow in suspicion at the delivery.
“Who would send you a Howler..?” Kenny narrows his eyes from over his mug of coffee, using his fork to warrily poke at it before Tweek slaps the offending piece of metal away.
“Maybe it’s a secret admirer!” Clyde enthusiastically pipes up, a lovesick grin dopely spreading across his face as he leans his body closer to yours. 
Once the distance is nonexistent, he wraps his arms around your body and places a chin on your shoulder when your hands reach out to grab it. You giggle as you pause at your ministrations, one of your slender hands softly pushing his cheek away when his face excitedly crowds your space in puppy-like anticipation.
“For that crybaby ugoo? Doubt it.” Cartman easily dismisses with a condescending snort, resuming his conquest at shoveling all the food possible in his mouth before Butters punches the Slytherin on the shoulder in admonition.
“N/N is our family’s prized jewel, you know! Her beauty takes after our mom!” The blonde has a cute pout on his face as he chastises the larger teen, the Hufflepuff pulling away the plate of cookies in punishment when Cartman tries to grab one.
“Would you put that down! That doesn't mean shit when your family has nothing to begin with!”
Before anyone can say anything, the Howler jumps to life when your fingers deftly open the envelope. It hovers in front of your body, an angry expression on its face as a forked tongue slips out of the piece of stationary.
You unconsciously brace yourself for the unknown message when a booming voice shakes the very room you’re seated in and captures every single student's attention. “ARE YOU A DEMENTOR? BECAUSE YOU JUST TOOK MY BREATH AWAY!”
Craig’s shoulders start viciously shaking with laughter, the normally expressionless teen holding his stomach as tears begin to leak out of the corner of his eyes. In stark contrast, the entire hall is quiet as they watch the events unfold, your face cast in a vivid red due to the utter embarrassment that begins to consume your entire body.
“FOR OUR UPCOMING TRIP TO HOGSMEADE, LET ME TAKE YOU OUT ON A WELL-DESERVED DATE TO MADAM PUDDIFOOT’S TEA SHOP! DON’T WORRY THOUGH, BABE. EVEN WITH ALL THE SWEETS I’LL TREAT YOU OUT TO, I’LL ALWAYS HAVE ROOM FOR YOU AS DESSERT—”
Your hands tremble in the flood of humiliation you feel, causing you to fumble with your wand as you flick it into action to decimate the piece of paper into flames. As it slowly sprinkles down into a pile of ashes in front of you, the last thing you hear from the Howler is a feeble wheeze of you could be my snack, the appetizer, the main course, everything—and I wouldn’t get tired of having your sweet ass for every single meal of my life.
The rest of the boys have joined in with Craig’s loud laughing although Kenny is trying his absolute hardest not to. Despite his efforts, you feel betrayed as you venomously glare at your brother when he bites his lips painfully shut. 
Tweek and Butters hurry to gather around you in an effort to console you with comforting circles being rubbed onto your clothed back and long fingers soothingly combing through your hair. But when you feel your other two brother’s hands begin to dangerously waver as they also try to hold in their wheezing, you push their arms away in frustration as you roar loudly over the group. 
“MARSH!” 
Despite admonishing the ravenette behind closed doors (to keep up appearances), Howler’s begin to routinely greet you every morning during breakfast with similar pick-up lines. They get progressively more embarrassing when they’re said in front of everyone and not in the secrecy of the flying paper birds that you miss so dearly.
It hurts you so much when they rain ashes on your innocent plate of eggs and toast after regaling their daily pick-up line, the little burst of flame making you send internal apologies to your mother who worked so hard throughout your childhood to provide you and your brother's food. The guilt implodes one day, resulting in you casting a hex on Stan after Defence Against the Dark Arts in the middle of the hallway.
You feel triumphant when your boyfriend begins to screech as his boogers turn into bats to fly out of his nose and attack him, your stomach feeling warm when you begin to laugh at his misery. To get back at him for the embarrassment, you don’t feel the slightest ounce of remorse when you stick out a leg to have him trip on his ass in his haste to run anyway from the flying creatures.
You pretend that you don’t notice when there’s a collective sense of disappointment in the Great Hall the following morning, all of the students making a habit to turn in their seats in anticipation of the owl that brings you a red envelope. None comes today and you can finally eat your breakfast in peace with the satisfaction that your boyfriend finally stopped with the public humiliation.
But with your group of friends and brothers, of course, the relief doesn’t last for long.
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a/n: surprise! the blondes of the group and you are siblings :)
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finniestoncrane · 1 year
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Inspired by your Riddle headcannons, would you consider a one shot of Daddy Oz's indulgence or "uses" for used underwear?
Used Underwear
Farrell!Penguin Headcanons hng yeah absolutely, although i did headcanons instead! i hope that's ok 💜🐧 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: pervy behaviour my beloved, masturbation, possessive behaviours too omg i am treating myself
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ozzie buys your underwear, it's his treat to you and himself
ok ozzie is obsessed with underwear, it's the gift he gives you most
he gets bored really quickly with the same old stuff, gotta spice it up every so often
something new to tear off of you or watch you walk around in
so all of your underwear belongs to him, remember that
and so he can do whatever he wants with it
if he finds some of it laying around after you've stayed over
or maybe just sitting in his laundry basket, or left on the floor after a particularly messy and frantic undressing
(or perhaps stuffed into the pocket of his suit jacket, he fucking loves it when you do that)
then it's his to do what he wants with, and you might not get it back immediately, if at all
especially if he can smell you on it, inhale your scent as he holds it against his face
if it's been a while since you left your underwear out for him to stumblr across, then he'll be sure to get his fix another way
he'll make sure you're wearing something nice under your clothes and take you out on a date
flirt with you constantly, little touches on your body, doing everything he can to get you as aroused as possible, till you're a little bit wet and sticky
and then he'll make you give him the underwear in the car
take them home with him, your scent on them, maybe even enough of you to taste
he carries your underwear in his pocket like a security blanket or a stim toy
he'll be in a meeting, out doing some business, even just walking around
and his hand will be in his pocket, just touching the material, feeling it against his skin
if he has a free moment where no one can see him, he'll take them out, let the fabric rest on his tongue and bite at them, like he does when he's tearing them off of you
or he'll hold them against his face, inhaling deep, his beautiful crooked nose covered in the fabric
he've not above wrapping them around his fingers or palm and stroking his cock, feeling the fabric against his length as he jerks off
and it might surprise you to know, but he also has tried them on before
there's something about knowing that the fabric that's touched you is not touching him
touch is a big sensory thing for him, fabric and the memories it holds
and once he's done with them, he always makes sure to leave a bit of himself with them before he returns them to you
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cherryxblossxms · 1 year
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Thirst :3 What about cheongsam dresses? One with a higher slit, all tight around your body, hugging you closely. The silk so smooth and nice, but not as your skin. And maybe that dress made others hold their gaze on you a bit longer. And maybe that dress made Silvio (or someone else-) regret buying it. So when you find yourself back in your room, in front of the vanity while taking off the jewellery, your lover has no patience anymore to take you to the bed. Or take off that dress... after all the high slits can come in quite handy ;)
If it's Silvio, he's loving the way it hugs your body and accents your features, the silk material he chose proving to be more than worth its weight in the gold he spent purchasing it and having it tailored. But the minute he sees the way the other nobles are eyeing you, gazes lingering much too long on places they shouldn't, he's maybe regretting his decision a little. Definitely gets a little angry, not at you of course, and it transfers to your bedroom where he's clearly impatient to have you all to himself, reassure that you're still his. Might get a little rough in bed and accidentally rip the seam around the hip if he decides not to have you take it off 😬 (but it's OK, he'll just buy you more)
Now, I of course have to bring up Clavis, as the resident leg-lover here, and he will go nuts. Getting the dress as a surprise for him, because honestly he can't be trusted in the making of the dress, who knows what other things he'll do... But the very second he sees it, his heart is stopping before galloping at full speed, he can't tear his eyes away. His eyes are like molten gold, and pupils blown out. You definitely cannot wear it outside the palace, because suddenly Clavis' hands will not leave you alone, his dangerous lithe fingers are constantly trailing up your thighs to the very edge of the fabric. He's going to make sure to rile you up until you're just as needy as him, and only then will he take you back to your room. Also likely will not take off your dress to fuck you, at first, but might want the full skin contact later
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thegreatflyinggrayson · 7 months
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please tell us about your 15 step skincare routine
I'm so glad someone asked! (Pimple mentions incoming!!!)
Here are my steps, in order, with time and materials (also this is just my morning routine, not my nightime one):
Before I do anything (this is kind of gross, I know) I go through and check for acne and blackheads and all that fun stuff, because I'll have to treat them later in the process.
Every morning I hop in the shower and wash up. This is important because the steam is great for my face, and it saves time so I don't need to use a steamer. I don't wash my face in the shower, though.
While I'm in the shower I use an exfoliating body scrub to remove any dead skin and such.
I shave once I'm out of the shower, because I don't really go for the scruffy/grizzled look. I use this amazing buttery soft shaving cream that moisturizes my skin, it smells like honeysuckle.
I wash my face using a gentle unscented cleanser. I have really soft washcloths specifically for this purpose.
I use some eye cream- look, I am aging, and I would like to say it's with grace. I started doing this to prove to Bruce it would be useful, and so far it's been good. He hasn't tried it out yet.
I use a toner because ugh my pores- I know I don't technically have to, but I like it, okay? Besides, like I said, aging.
Then I use a serum that I got as a gift one year and I cannot stop buying it. I use an antioxidant serum in the mornings, and a vitamin C serum at night.
Once that's in place, I use a nice moisturizer because my skin does what it wants and what it wants in rainy weather is to dry up like the Sahara.
Back to the acne, like- ugh. Acne appears so quickly and I am so mad nobody told me it lasts after your teen years. I use a more intense acne treatment at night, usually, but Tim bought me some of those cute star stickers that get rid of pimples and I am obsessed, so if I feel confident enough I'll slap some stars on my face. Especially if I don't have work. Anyways, back to the process.
So, like, I know a lot of people like to put on face oil but I am constantly fighting my skin so I have to apply it super carefully and lightly. Because my skin is dry and oily and annoying.
I do a lip scrub here, because obviously.
Chapstick. Look, I consider this a step because it is slept on, it is so important and people keep skipping it for themselves. I use a beeswax chapstick that has SPF 15 in it.
Once all of that is done I generally move on to my "second" skincare routine where I apply body lotion and all that. Yes I consider this part of my skincare routine. Your skin is your skin, even if it's not your face.
Okay so once that's out of the way I have to put on sun screen because I need it. Yes, even in the fall/winter! Your skin still absorbs UV rays when it's cold, and I am not taking any chances.
My nighttime routine is really fun and includes a mud mask, but is pretty similar to everything above except with a bigger focus on adding nutrients to my face/skin overnight, as well as treating acne a little more aggressively.
Honestly I don't know why Bruce doesn't try to do it every day, it's really not that complex.
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plaindangan · 2 months
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Hehe, now i wonder how the THH girls, Makoto and Chihiro`s clothes are tailored to fit them~
Disclaimer: R18 material! If not to your liking then please do not view!
Consider Junko, she doesn't really bother with adjusting her outfits and is more than happy to wear something smaller/revealing since it mean more of the world can see her beauty...and despair over not being able to have it. Sometimes she'd figure she should just probably just walk around naked to further drive people crazy, but considers that a despair that shouldn't be abused frequently~
Mukuro, whose clothes are essentially hand me downs from Junko (and isn't allowed to adjust them either), also has to put up with showing more skin than usual, especially concerning her freckle butt.
Concerning Asahina, she doesn't usually get any tailoring done, and simply buys a pack of white shirts whenever her boobs stretch them out too much or ruins them. Same deal with her booty shorts, though in that cases, it takes it ripping after one too many donuts or vigorous exercise for her to get the memo.
For Sakura, who has the largest chest ontop of being bulky, she struggles with getting her shirts suitably tailored since her arms have a tendency to just rip through her sleeves and bust just has her boobs pop out constantly. At this point she's resigned to simply just wearing a custom sports bra for her day to day.
Toko spends a small fortune tailoring skirts long enough to hide her voluptuous thighs...and spending a lot to fix them when Syo inevitably decides to come out and 'let the girls down there' breathe.
For Sayaka, her adjustment is usually concerning her new bust which has seen a stark increase (be it due to natural/Junko tampering reasons), and her agency spends a bit trying to alter her idol outfits to prevent any nip slips from happening a she bounces on stage.
Kyoko, Chihiro and Celeste - who either have images to maintain or simply do care about getting the right fit, typically work to get their skirts properly lengthen to avoid their wobble meat for constantly flashing others. The price to pay for being apart of the bottom heavy girls/femboy of the DR1 class...and constant victims of booty related pranks in the Academy.
Finally, Makoto often has to get tailoring done on his pants: something that either gets ripped to shreds do to his own bad luck or because Junko thought it'd be funny to 'adjust' him for the days with medicine or inventions that got him either curvier in the hips, booty or given him increased dick size (the last one the other girls in class can be very partial to~).
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tpwkwriter · 2 years
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what I think dating H would be like 😩
• constantly touching each other, weather its his hand on your thigh while he drives or a cuddle infront of the Tv you two are most definitely touching some how 🫶
• sharing clothes!!! Either your in an oversized band tee of his or he’s in your comfiest robe or jumper during winter seasons🥲
• He constantly and loves to spoil you and would always use the excuse “it made me think of you lovie” or “cus I love you” when you questioned him, since you are his pride and joy.
• date nights when you least expect it 😩 when you’d be home while he’s out you’d receive a message like: “be ready by 8 my treat xx” or a call telling you how he’s booked a reservation at your fave restaurant.
• Always, ALWAYS, comforting and there for when you have a bad way always being there for a cuddle 😭”oh baby m’here”
• And he’d never admit it but he LOVESSS being Babied ☹️ “need some love” “where’s my favourite girl, need my cuddles” “lovie, play with my hair?”😖
• protective..well overprotective, whenever your out lets say a club he would always tighten his grip around your waist or hand when someone was to approach, and HATED when others would look at HIS girl “dont like the way he’s looking at you Angel” “y’mine not his” “if he says one more thing, he’s f*cked” 😌
• compliments,compliments and more compliments, every opportunity he got he would always and constantly tell you how gorgeous you were, even with messy hair and baggy sweats you were still his ‘beautiful girl’ even when you woke up with morning Breath and flushed skin he still believed your the prettiest thing. “Morning gorgeous” “how do you mange to look amazing” “your outdoing me love” ☺️
• Even the domestic side of him was attractive, When he cooked your favourite meal or even he organised the house for you to come back too, it still put a smile on your face, he’d often run a bath with your favourite bath bomb and salts with candles and petals, it was just perfect ❤️
• If you ever fell Ill or Mother Nature hit, he was always first to help, weather it be rubbing your tummy to help with cramps to running to the shop and buying your top snacks and drinks to help which was always topped with a bouquet of your favourite flowers, he’d never be phases by kissing you even when you weren’t well, “babe im sick, shouldn’t kiss me” “just a sneaky one, itll make you feel better lovieee” 💖
Overall he is boyfriend material <333
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hyunsoolgc · 3 months
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◎ PAGE 018
⸻ LOVE MONTH 2K24  /  appreciation gift
When it comes to giving gifts, Hyunsoo fancies himself something of a professional in the art. It is one of the love languages he understands the appreciation toward ( particularly when he isn't able to give the person in question words of affirmation or a simple hug ). He does not pride himself on his generosity. Rather, he enjoys seeing the sparkle in someone's eye when they receive a neatly wrapped box, understanding that the feeling is something so good and positive.
Hyunsoo looks into what would be the best gift for Kim Dongsun with diligence and detail. He observes some of his habits, his personality, what he may wear often that any can see a pattern if they watch long enough. He concludes that his manager is an active man who is constantly on the go, and in need of a gift that would offer him comfort among the hectic schedules and whatever else he may have going on in his daily life.
As usual, he spares no expense, paying little attention to any price tags or what his manager's preferred limit may be. He wants to express his appreciation in an accurate way. ( Even if it could end up being overwhelming for some when they inevitably discover the price tag. ) And with the man's birthday also coming soon, Hyunsoo didn't mind putting in the extra effort to make him feel appreciated for both special holidays.
First and foremost, he decides to buy him a sweater. A fair isle pattern in a fern green, the material a soft and reliable wool, it is a piece he can wear while the weather is still cold and keep with him for a long time.
Next, he purchases a gift box with a variety of goodies inside for relaxation and self-care when his manager finally gets some downtime. Complete with a pair of wool and cashmere socks, a candle, products to keep skin from drying, and creme brulee and earl grey chocolate bars. In it, he includes a handwritten card expressing his gratitude for the hard work the man has done for him over the past nine months.
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aces-and-angels · 1 year
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An It Lives Within Holiday Special: Lincoln Edition 🎁
Title: Handmade 
A/N: Slowly, but surely, we’re keeping the ball rolling lol. This one was inspired by a couple of HC’s I made earlier. Enjoy 🖤🖤🖤 (LPS and @linkysmommy here’s my overdue olive branch lmaoo)
Pairing: Lincoln x MC (M!Rowan)
Summary: A bonus scene for ILW by @itlivesproject; Rowan decides to make something for Lincoln. 
Warnings: minor reference to blood, language, sex
nsfw below, minors dni 
---
“Fuck,” Rowan hissed out in pain. A small pool of blood began to well up where he pricked himself with the needle. Again. Over the past three hours, he injured himself at least once with every tool in front of him; some minor burns from a glue gun, a stinging cut from a utility knife, and now this.
“Maybe I should-” 
“No, Connor,” he huffed, cutting him off. “ I want to do this myself.”
“I understand that, but you’re running out of fingers to cut,” he gestured towards his hands. Rowan glanced down, taking note of the several bandages that covered his skin.  
“I’m almost done,” he mumbled sheepishly, picking up the needle once more to continue to sew. 
“You’re really not, though. You still have to stitch the other side.”
“Oh my God,” he groaned, throwing the piece of leather onto the table. “Why is this so hard?!” 
“You’re a beginner and you chose one of the hardest templates from my shop.” 
Rowan rolled his eyes at him. “That was a rhetorical question, jackass.”
“Sorry,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes flicked over to the side table. “Hand me that scrap leather over there.”
“I already told you-” 
“I’m not making it for you,” Connor interrupted, “but I can’t keep watching you hurt yourself. I’m gonna show you a better a technique.” He settled into the chair next to him, grabbing his tool kit from the shelf above. “First, let’s take care of that cut. I can’t have you bleeding all over my supplies.”
“Your concern is touching,” Rowan deadpanned, holding out his finger so Connor could apply another band-aid. 
---   
After two botched attempts and one long walk around the cabin to calm himself down, Rowan figured out how to make a wallet. The sky had turned dark by the time he set down his tools. Holding the finished product in his hands, he admired his work. The dye he had applied left a light brown stain to the leather, its color warm with undertones of red. His finger ran along the smooth edges, checking for any bumps he needed to sand down. Finding none, he flipped it over. His eyes scanned the small mark he carved out in the lower right corner. L.M. His thumb stroked along the hollow groove of the letters. “He’s going to love it,” Connor clapped him on the back. 
“You think so?” 
“No doubt. This design is really popular with my customers,” he encouraged further. Rowan bit back a smile. While out on one of their dates, he had noticed how worn out his wallet was. The material was tattered, and the clasp was dangerously close to falling off completely. He originally planned on buying one online for him. Then, he remembered his roommate owned an art store. 
“Thanks again, Connor. I couldn’t have done this without you.” 
“I know,” he smirked. His boisterous laugh filled the room as Rowan shoved him. “It’s no trouble, really. I love this kind of stuff. When are you going to give it to him?” 
“We’re going to a concert next week, so probably then.”
---
One week later, Lincoln picked him up from the cabin. Together, they rode on his motorcycle to a concert venue just outside Westchester. The drive was quiet, aside from the steady thrum of the engine. Rowan’s arms were wrapped around Lincoln’s waist, his chest flushed against his back. Normally, he loved their rides; the gust of wind that hit his face, the faint, earthy scent of Lincoln’s skin, the rush of adrenaline that flooded his veins as they weaved through traffic. 
But he couldn’t enjoy any of that. Not while he was constantly imagining his gift falling onto the road. There was no way for him to physically check his pockets, so he settled for awkwardly clamping his elbows to his sides.
Once they hit a red light, Rowan’s hand flew to his waist. Relief washed through him as he felt the shape of the wallet over his jeans. “Am I driving too fast?” Lincoln asked over his shoulder.
"No, why?”
“You seem jumpy.”
“I-I’m fine,” he answered shakily. 
“You sure? I can slow down,” he offered, taking one hand off the handle to squeeze his. Lincoln’s thumb ran over his knuckles. The familiar roughness of his skin settled Rowan’s nerves. He exhaled, releasing the breath he was holding. 
“I’m sure.” He squeezed his hand back. That seemed to be enough to ease Lincoln’s worry. 
“Alright. Just let me know if that changes.” 
“Aw, look who cares about me,” he teased, a smirk tugging on his lip. 
“Shut up.” Chuckling, Lincoln playfully swatted his arm. The cars ahead of them slowly started to move as the light switched to green. Rowan quickly tucked the wallet further into his pocket before adjusting his hold on Lincoln’s waist. 
It only took three more stops for them to reach their destination. Rowan got a clear view of the venue as they turned into the parking lot. In the middle of a grassy field was a stage underneath a large, white tent. Their decision to leave early had paid off. The crowd was sparse, leaving them plenty of room to find a spot near the front. Hand in hand, they walked into the field, the weight of Lincoln’s gift hitting his thigh with each step. His free hand anxiously twitched toward his pocket. He wondered how Lincoln would react. Would he like the color? Was it weird to give him something like this? 
“Do you want anything?” Lincoln’s voice snapped him out of his trance. 
“Huh?” He’d been so lost in thought that he didn’t realize that they’d reached the front of the barricade. 
Lincoln nodded at a smaller tent to their left. “They’re selling drinks over there. Want one?” 
“Oh, uh- sure. Maybe in a bit,” he replied, chewing on his lip. It was now or never. “There’s something I need to do first.” Confusion marked Lincoln’s features, his brow furrowing as Rowan pulled his hand away.
“Is something wrong?”
“No!” he blurted out. “I just- I have this thing...”
Lincoln’s brows furrowed even more. “A thing? Did you forget to do something?”
“Ugh, no- that didn’t come out right,” he grumbled. Taking a quick breath, he tried again. “I have something for you.”
“What is it?” 
“Close your eyes,” he instructed. Obediently, Lincoln’s eyes slipped shut. Without his gaze on him, Rowan pulled the wallet out of his pocket. He ran his thumb along the carved L.M. once. Then twice. A seed of doubt crept back into his mind. Yesterday’s pride morphed into insecurity over his work. I should’ve just bought one online. It would’ve been nicer. Who makes a wallet for someone?? He’s gonna think I’m-
"Uh- Ro? How long am I supposed to keep my eyes shut?” 
“Sorry, um, keep them closed for a bit more. A-and hold your hand out for me.”
“You’re not pranking me, right?” 
“No pranks, I swear. Just give me your hand.” 
“Alright, I’m trusting you,” he sighed, extending his arm out. “But if it’s something gross, I will not hesitate to throw it at you.” 
Rowan let out a small laugh at his threat, feeling some of the tension leave his body. “Good thing I have fast reflexes,” he quipped back.
“Rowan.”
“I’m kidding,” he reassured. Despite their friendly banter, there was still a tremble in Rowan’s hand. His fingers gripped the wallet tightly, afraid of completing the exchange. He closed his own eyes, attempting to steel his nerves. Connor’s words rang through his head. “He’s going to love it.” 
He’s going to love it, Rowan repeated to himself. Before he could convince himself otherwise, he loosened his grip, letting the wallet fall out of his grasp. 
“Oh,” Lincoln gasped, his eyes snapping open the instant the leather touched his skin. Rowan watched him with bated breath, trying to gauge his reaction. The murmurs of the crowd around them faded, replaced by the deafening pound of his heart. Lincoln stood motionless, his mouth slightly agape as he stared down at his gift. 
Why isn’t he saying anything? Rowan chewed on his bottom lip, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The silence between them was unbearable. Tentatively, Lincoln put his other hand over the wallet, covering it completely. Great. He hates it so much he doesn’t even want to look at it. I knew it. I should’ve just gotten the one-
“You... you made this?” Lincoln breathed out.
Rowan’s face burned from embarrassment. “Was it that obvious?” His shame prevented him for picking up on his boyfriend’s tone. Instead, he focused on counting the blades of grass around his feet. “I-it was a stupid idea,” he mumbled, unable to look at him. His fingers nervously twisted his sleeve as he continued to speak. “I just... yours looked so tattered- and Connor had extra leather, s-so I thought-” Lincoln cut off his ramblings, lifting his chin back up to his face. Before he could react, Lincoln kissed him hard. 
His shoulders tensed as his mouth pressed against his. A moment passed, then he was kissing him back with fervor. A low groan rattled in Rowan’s throat as Lincoln’s fingers tangled through his hair. His own hands reached up to clutch the collar of his shirt. Their lips greedily chased each other, becoming more and more heated as they moved as one. It was the type of kiss that would’ve been more appropriate behind closed doors. But Rowan’s need for decorum disappeared in a mesh of teeth and tongue. Only when his lungs were desperate for air did they pull apart, their chests heaving. “So -hah- does this mean you like it?” 
“I love it,” he rasped, the effect of their kiss still evident in his voice. Rowan’s eyes fluttered open, taking in the flush on Lincoln’s cheeks and his swollen lips. His breath hitched at the loving gaze his boyfriend directed at him. Lincoln’s fingers continued to lazily play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “You did all this for me?” 
“There’s actually more,” Rowan hinted, pulling himself out of his hold. He bit back a laugh as Lincoln eagerly flipped the wallet open. His features softened immediately when he saw what was inside.
“It’s us,” he awed. 
“I found that disposable camera you were looking for and developed the film,” he explained softly. “That one was my favorite.”
“I can see why,” he murmured. There was something reverent about the way Lincoln’s fingers traced along his present. Tender, even. It was almost like he couldn’t stop. Rowan found it all endearing, even if he couldn’t figure out why Lincoln seemed so entranced. Maybe he likes the texture, he guessed. Whatever daze he was in lifted, at least long enough for Lincoln to transfer the contents of his old wallet to his new one. “I won’t be needing this anymore,” he announced cheerily, throwing his old wallet in the trash.
“I can’t believe you used that thing for so long.” 
“I would’ve gotten a new one eventually. My incredibly thoughtful boyfriend just beat me to it,” he praised, leaning in to peck his cheek. 
“Sounds like a great guy,” he smirked.
“Oh, he is. That, and so much more.” His sincerity left Rowan flustered. The tips of his ears felt hot. 
“I’ll take that drink now,” he cleared his throat. 
“Sure thing, babe,” Lincoln chuckled, grabbing his hand to walk over to the concession stand.
---
The rest of the concert was a blur. Rowan barely paid attention to the performers on stage, distracted by how openly affectionate Lincoln had gotten. He clung to him throughout the whole set, his arms firmly wrapped around his chest. From the way he nuzzled into the crook of his neck, Rowan wasn’t sure if he actually watched any of the show. But his sweet, gentle kisses felt too good for him to care. The music came second to the blissful hums Lincoln made against his skin. 
His amorous mood lasted well into the night (not that Rowan was complaining). He all but begged him to stay over, claiming that he ‘accidentally’ missed the turn for Connor’s cabin. They fell onto the bed, leaving a pile of clothes forgotten on the floor. Lincoln’s fingers intertwined with his; his breath was hot and heavy against his ear. “Let me take care of you tonight.” Rowan shuddered, his skin tingling wherever Lincoln’s hands roamed, his mouth trailing right behind it. The ache between his legs grew the longer he teased him.
“Lincoln... please-” 
“Tell me what you want.” 
“You,” he panted, rolling his hips against his thigh. “I need you. Now.”
“I’m all yours, love.” Rowan lost himself in the euphoric feeling of their limbs tangling together. Their shared pleasure echoed throughout the room. Quiet moans gradually transformed into loud, strangled cries. Every inch of their bodies was intimately pressed against each other. It was never enough and too much all at once. Rowan’s nails dug into his back, his muscles tensing as Lincoln pounded into that spot inside him over and over. The steady thump of the headboard hitting the wall lost its rhythm as their movements turned frantic.  “Oh shit- baby, I- I’m- I’m gonna-” 
“Me too,” Lincoln choked out, his head dropping to his shoulder. His teeth sunk into his flesh. The sharp pain sent Rowan tumbling over the edge. Writhing beneath him, he gripped the sheets tightly as he continued to fuck him through his orgasm. “Give it to me, baby,” he groaned, wrapping his legs tighter around his waist. “Make me yours.” With that, his lover came with a shattered gasp.
“Oh- Rowan!”
---
The following morning, they went to a nearby coffee shop. As Lincoln ordered their drinks, Rowan observed the soft smile that appeared on his face when he pulled out his new wallet. The way his hand lingered in his pocket for longer than necessary as he tucked it back in also didn’t go unnoticed. His actions puzzled him. Did he really like the material that much? He recalled how instantaneous his reaction was when he first received it, which raised another thought in his mind. “Babe, I have a question.”
“Shoot.” Lincoln set down his mug, giving him his full attention.
“Yesterday, when I gave you your present... How’d you know that I made it?”
A knowing grin spread on his lips, which he hid as he lifted his mug back up to his mouth. “Lucky guess,” he answered simply. Rowan knew him well enough to recognize that he wasn’t telling him the whole truth. But he decided to let it go for now. 
“Alright, just wondering.” 
---
Lincoln McQuoid: “Basically, I can sense things that have been touched by the power. Monsters, artifacts, people...  I can see impressions and feel emotions, but the more disconnected from the Power something is and the more disconnected emotionally I am from it, the vaguer the impressions will be.”
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