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marriedtobigfoot · 1 year

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Part two of this story, where Robin discovers Steve’s type. A lot of people seemed interested in more, so here you go!

The conversation doesn’t go quite the way Robin is expecting it. She’s fully prepared for Steve to launch into saying how confused he is because he’s feeling weird pants feelings for Eddie, but how does that work because he likes girls? She’s been mentally preparing herself for that exact discussion since she watched Eddie Munson call her best friend ‘Big Boy’ in the middle of committing grand theft auto. So when Steve starts talking, curled up on the gross linoleum tile of Family Video, she’s taken by surprise. She doesn’t even get the chance to answer his question before he’s throwing her prepared speech out the metaphorical window.

“That’s stupid, you already told me that. Sharon Parker in the 5th grade, holding hands for Red Rover, blah blah blah, I know that. But like…Have you ever acted different around a girl, and then one day, you realize it’s because you like her? Like, you had a crush on a girl without even realizing it? Does that make any sense?”

It takes Robin a second to reboot, but the second she manages, Steve throws her even further off track.

“It’s just, Tommy H came by the other day, and he said some stuff that really has me thinking and-”

Robin can’t stop herself. As soon as she hears a name other than Eddie Munson, she has a hand out covering Steve’s mouth. He gives her a look, surprised and confused. Maybe a little annoyed. She valiantly ignores him because what he just said has her head spinning, and she needs to put a stop to it right now.

“Steve. My best friend in the whole universe. I’m here for whatever you need and whatever you might be figuring out about yourself. You know I’m going to support you 100% no matter what happens but…Please. PLEASE tell me that you didn’t just discover you have a crush on TOMMY H! He isn’t even your type, Steve! He isn’t even in the ballpark of your type! He’s so far off it’s honestly kind of laughable and-”

Now it’s Steve who puts a hand over her mouth.

“Jesus, Robin! First of all, gross. I’m not into Tommy, okay? Never gonna happen, not in a million years. And second, what the hell do you mean ‘my type?’ What the hell would you know about my type?”

Robin carefully removes his hand from her face and shakes her head. She has absolutely no clue where this conversation is going, but there’s still a chance it can work its way somewhere good. Somewhere Munson-related. And she owes it to Steve to listen to his crisis properly.

“Nevermind, forget that. What happened with Tommy?”

“Okay well, he came over, like I said. He was super wasted, and I guess he and Carol broke up? And he started talking about when we were friends, and how he always used to try and get closer to me. He said he almost asked me if I wanted to practice kissing once? And he talked about like, trying to touch me all the time, trying to make me laugh? Basically saying he had a crush on me, which was super weird.”

Robin nodded, because really, she had no idea what to say to that.

“And then he kissed me. Which was kind of gross because he tasted like whisky and he was being all sloppy, like he wanted to eat my face. But…”

“But?”

“It wasn’t as gross as I would have expected I guess.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like him!”

“I don’t! It just, wasn’t a totally horrible kiss okay? Only a little horrible.”

Robin sighed and let her head tip back against the wall.

“Okay, I’m not seeing your dilemma yet. Tommy liking you and kissing you is kind of weird sure, but it doesn’t change anything about you.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed, and he let out a puff of air. He looked small in this bathroom, scared in a way that Robin hated. They had faced down monsters, torture, long shifts with Keith. A conversation with his best friend should never have Steve looking that afraid, ever.

She reached out and took his hand in her, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Hey, it’s okay Steve. Tell me what’s going on in that head.”

“It’s just…Some of what Tommy said. About how he tried to get closer to me, to touch me and make me laugh and shit? I guess I realized that I’m doing that stuff. With somebody else. And if Tommy did it because he liked me then…”

“You think it might mean you like this person. This…guy?”

“Yeah. This guy.”

There it was, the Eddie Munson of it all. Because Robin only knew of one guy that Steve spent his time with and would be trying to be touchy and close with. She had watched it happen with her own eyes, the way Steve would look for reasons to lean past Eddie, to put a hand on his shoulder, his back, once getting brave and putting a hand on his waist. She’d watched Eddie do the exact same things around Steve, too.

Part of her almost just comes out and tells Steve, that she knows who he’s talking about. Except he still looks unsure. He looks like he wants to throw up a little, and Robin has to fix that.

“You know it’s okay right? For you to like this guy?”

“I know. It’s just weird, to realize I might like him that way. Normally I can figure out when I’m into someone.”

“Well, normally you aren’t friends with the people you’re into first. That makes it confusing.”

“And I’m normally into people with boobies.”

“That too.”

Steve lets out a tiny laugh, and it makes Robin beam. Something about Steve is lighter now, like somethings been lifted off his chest, something that’s been there for a really long time without him knowing. She wants to tell him how much she’s loves him. How much she cares about him and supports him. She wants to tell him about all her research, and fully explain to him her findings when it comes to ‘his type.’

She wants to tell him that she knows the guy he likes is Eddie. That she thinks Eddie might like him too.

The ‘ring for service’ bell ruins her chance at saying any of it.

She and Steve both clamber off the floor, adjusting their vests before exiting the bathroom to greet whoever keeps ringing the stupid bell over and over again. Robin can’t decide if it’s the best luck in the world, or the worst, when it’s Eddie Munson himself standing at the counter.

She leans towards best luck when she sees the way Steve’s cheeks go red.

A few people asked to be tagged if I did a part 2, so hopefully I do that right! I’ve got a few more parts planned, so if anybody else wants to be tagged let me know and I’ll do my best!

@kaiscove @wolfstarlights @awkwardgravity1 @anonymousbandgirl @f1ct1onwh0re

#steve harrington #Robin Buckley #Platonic Stobin #Wingman Robin Buckley #Steddie #Eddie Munson #stranger things 4 #stranger things #steddie ficlet #stommy #one sided stommy #because I am a Tommy was in love with Steve Truther FIRST and a person never #Steve may have liked him once upon a time but that ship has sailed now

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nervoussagittarius · 6 days

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furniture shopping + night out

matt sturniolo x influencer!reader

summary: your day in the life vlog ft. your boyfriend matt, request

warnings: fluff, maybe language

“good morning vlog” you said taking a sip of your coffee. the sun was just starting to come through your apartment windows as people filled the streets below. “i have a very exciting day planned today so i thought i’d intro the video now and we can chat for a minute.”

you began to get all of the ingredients out to make breakfast for you and matt while you talked to the vlog about your night. your videos tended to feel like a facetime call between you and your fans. everyone loved how personal and friendly they felt. “matt spent the night here yesterday, and i figured i’d be a good girlfriend and make us breakfast. i convinced matt to go to ikea with me this morning because i’ve been in this apartment for about a month now, and i still have no living room furniture. so we’re going to try to fix that.”

as you continued making breakfast matt finally woke up and decided to join you in the kitchen. “okay guys, be honest do these pancakes look good? i hope so. but i’m going to go wake matt up-” matt appeared from around the corner at this statement. “oh nevermind. hi baby! good morning.” matt, not being fully awake yet, gave you a small groan and fell into your arms for a hug. you returned it, holding him for what felt like hours. neither of you complained though. you and matt could be surgically attached and it still wouldn’t be close enough for the two of you.

you turned your head to the side looking at your counter. “me and my friends talked about last night and what we have planned for this morning while i made us breakfast.” “your friends?” matt questioned since he was the only one in your house. “yeah my friends in the vlog” you said with a ‘duh’ tone, earning yourself a poke in the side from matt.

you picked up your camera again about an hour later while you were in the car. focusing the lens on matt, you began to ask him questions. “how do you feel now that i might actually have a couch after a month?” you asked with a laugh. matt’s smile brightened as he took his eyes off the road for a second to look between you and your camera. “i’m happy that we’ll finally have some place to sit other then your kitchen table. i’m excited to go shopping if you’re excited.” he reached over to pat your knee.

“matt’s not the biggest fan of shopping if you couldn’t tell. or if you’ve seen his house you’d know how unfurnished it is.” you said setting the camera on the dash to look at both of you. “listen, i just don’t see the point in worrying about how my house looks when i can be doing fun stuff with my life.” matt said with a chuckle. he grabbed your hand so you knew he was fully just joking to mess with you. “i think furniture shopping is fun. we’ll see you guys again hopefully when i have a couch.”

you were back in the car when you found yourself filming again. you head rested on matt’s ands your intertwined arms as you sat in the parking lot. “bad news guys. we couldn’t find a couch.” you removed yourself from matt as he started backing out of the parking spot. his hand now rested on the back of your neck as he played with your hair. “so sad. i still have to sit on the floor.” matt remarked. you gave him a discouraged laugh catching his attention. he looked over at you while at the red light. “don’t worry sweetheart we’ll figure it out.” he leaned over quickly to kiss you cheek. “thanks matt. we’ll see you guys later.” you said giving your vlog a small smile.

a few hours had past as you and matt spent some quality time together at your apartment. it wasn’t often that you guys got alone time so you cherished it when you did. no meetings, no sibling, and no cameras. but that came to an end when you realized you had a vlog to finish.

matt was the one to pick up your camera this time. you were in your bathroom getting ready for the prada event you were going to tonight. matt thought this would be the perfect time to try and scare you. he quietly walked through your house, making his way to you. unfortunately for him you caught him in this act. his reflection showed up in the corner of your mirror. “what are you doing?” “no i’ve been caught. i was trying to scare you.” he said with a laugh. “next time, baby” he set your camera on your bathroom counter and came around to hug you from behind. “you look really pretty, sweetheart. do you want to tell them where we’re going?” he asked as he gently layed his chin in your shoulder. he didn’t want to mess up what you were doing.

matt’s comment had made you blush, but you’ll quickly pulled yourself back together. “thanks baby. um- matt did a photoshoot with prada recently, and he looked incredible. so they invited us to an event they’re throwing tonight.” “if we make it there.” matt threw out winking at the camera. you looked at him in the mirror quickly as you threw your arm back to jokingly hit him in the shoulder. “matthew!” you exclaimed. “what? im just saying their might be traffic.” he shrugged acting nonchalantly as you rolled your eyes.

“anyway guys i think we’re going to call it a night. i’ll let you know tomorrow how the event went. i love you and i’ll see you soon.” you smiled picking up the camera as matt starts to walk out of the bathroom. “wait, matt! do you have any last words for our friends?” he turned to you with a slight smirk. he quickly screamed in the camera before running off. “i’m so sorry head phone users.” and you ended the video

an: i’m sorry this is so short but i wanted to make this different from chris’s so i hope you enjoy. i also slightly based this off of the vibe of jules leblancs blogs because i love them 🤍

#nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt x reader #matt sturniolo

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froggibus · 11 months

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Mask Off - Stu Macher! Ghostface

Pairing: Stu Macher! Ghostface x f! reader

Genre: smut/NSFW (w a sprinkle of hurt/comfort cause, cmon guys, it’s me)

Word Count: 2k

Summary: at a party at Stu’s, the last thing you’re expecting is for the masked killer to save you from the man who tried to assault you, or for him to take his turn right after

CW: SA, murder, blood, knives, violence, standard Ghostface stuff, breath play, knife play, unprotected sex (make good choices), creampie, blood kink?, hints of a mask kink, degradation, lots of dirty talk, reader is referred to as a slut/whore, they fuck next to a dead body, established relationship, soft! Stu, Ghostface reveal

guys I just watched Scream 6 and I am so soft for Stu rn idek why. i usually don’t write stuff like this but the Scream movies are some of my favorites (def not cause me and the final girl have the same name…definitely not) and I’ve had HARD ghostface brain rot lately so…here’s this lol

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Sitting on the living room floor of your boyfriend’s house, half drunk and watching movies, everything feels right. Sure, there’s a psycho killer on the loose, and everyone in the house is technically breaking curfew, but you couldn’t care less. Even with Randy geeking out over the Jamie Lee horror movie playing on the tv, you can’t complain.

The guy next to you on the floor, a couple more beers in than you are, shuffles closer. You side eye him, but don’t say anything. You find yourself looking for Stu—you know how jealous he can get. But your boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

You take a deep breath and another chug of your beer, hoping to calm the nerves that have found their way into your stomach. You don’t like the idea of your boyfriend being MIA when there’s a killer around.

Your nerves are shoved away when you feel a warm hand on your thigh. You turn to the guy next to you, who gives you a nod and a smirk.

He must be an idiot, or not well versed in the politics of Woodsboro Seniors, or else he would know that he’s in your boyfriend's house, trying to feel you up. You roll your eyes, finish chugging your drink, and head upstairs to try to find your boyfriend.

You don’t even hear the guy get up behind you.

You duck into Stu’s room, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Not wanting to go back downstairs, you fall backwards onto his bed and relax into the sheets. They smell like him, and the scent is so comforting, it’s almost enough to put you to sleep.

Almost.

The door opens and you sit up instantly, expecting to find your boyfriend but disappointed to see the guy from earlier.

“What do you want?” You squint at him.

“You disappeared on me, baby.”

“Look, I don’t even know who you are, and clearly you don’t know me, or else you would know that this is my boyfriend’s house. And believe me when I say he’s the jealous type.”

He sits down on the bed, and you shuffle to the other side, drawing your knees to your chest. He seems to take that as a challenge, smirking even wider.

“Your boyfriend never needs to know.”

“Get lost, dude.”

He’s on you in an instant, lips pressing against yours, body on top of yours. You shove him hard, but that only makes him lean in more. He’s so much bigger than you, so much stronger. The reality of your situation starts to set in, and you drive a knee into his groin.

He groans, pulling back and slapping you hard. He squeezes your face, eyes angry. “Listen, slut, hit me again and the killer on the loose is the last thing you have to worry about. Do you understand?”

You go to bite his finger but he clamped his hand over your mouth. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

He presses his hand down hard enough to keep you quiet, trailing his hand up your stomach. You squirm as his hand gets to your chest, still trying to deter him.

Just as he slips his hand up your shirt, you see the cloaked figure behind him. You let out a gasp that he takes as you enjoying what he’s doing.

You think it’s a prank, that someone is just trying to scare the people hooking up at the party. But the mask…the cloak…it’s all too real. And then you see the glint of silver and your blood runs cold.

You want to scream and run away, but at the same time, you want the man on top of you to suffer. You want to hear the knife sink into him and you want to see his blood come pouring out. And with the way he’s touching you, you would rather die than have to tell Stu what happened.

Not that he wouldn’t understand, but because you’re sure things would never be the same.

The guy doesn’t even notice the figure approaching, doesn’t even notice the way you’re almost crying into his palm. The figure, that the news has dubbed Ghostface, tilts his head at you.

You should be scared, you should be running, but you aren’t. Something about him, something about the way he’s looking at you, makes you feel almost safe. At least, safer than the guy currently forcing himself on you.

He pulls his arm back, revealing the sharpened knife once more, before driving it into the back of the man on top of you. He spasms, blood dripping out of his mouth and down your neck.

Ghostface doesn’t let up, though. He drives the knife in and out of him, penetrating his skin over and over and over. The sound of sharp metal against soft skin fills your ears, and warm blood covers you.

Finally, the man goes limp, and Ghostface practically throws him off of the bed. He crawls on top of you, replacing the dead man. His body is warm on yours, and he smells like blood and an almost familiar cologne.

He slides the flat end of the blade across your cheek, down your jaw and onto your throat. You suck in a breath, trying not to let your fear show. You can hear his breathing through the mask, and the feeling of the cold metal on your skin sends waves of arousal through you.

You should probably consult a therapist on that, given you survive.

He pulls the knife away from you, tucking it into his waistband. You squint. Isn’t he going to kill you?

He lifts up his hands, and for a second you think he’s going to strangle you. But no, he does something that surprises you even more. He removes the mask.

You gasp, covering your mouth in shock. You’re not sure who you were expecting, but it wasn’t your boyfriend.

He tilts his head at you, giving you a lopsided grin. “Sorry, baby. I lost my temper.”

You nod slowly, the idea that Stu is the Ghostface killer not quite registering in your mind. He wipes blood off of your face, licking it off of his fingers. Something about the action is so erotic that it has you clenching your thighs.

“I-I’m sorry,” your voice comes out strained. You’re not even sure what you’re apologizing for—for the guy who assaulted you or for your shock or for seeing him without his mask.

He pushes the hair out of your face. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. You take a shaky breath, your heart pounding and your clit throbbing.

His hand moves from your hair to your neck, squeezing gently. Stu was always fascinated with stuff like that—pain and breath play and knives. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t fascinate you, too.

He kisses you, lips hungrily devouring yours. You can taste blood, but you’re not sure if it’s from his face or yours. His hand slides down your waist, bunching up the fabric of your t-shirt and sliding his hand under it.

“Are you scared?” There’s a smirk on his lips, something dark in his eyes.

“A little,” you admit.

“Of me?”

“Not of you. Never of you.”

He just killed a man in front of you—on top of you—but you’ve never felt more safe. And that’s what scares you. Your own desires, your own fucked up thoughts and feelings.

“You know I’d never let anything hurt you,” he taps his fingers on your throat. “I would never hurt you. You’re mine, and mine alone.”

You tug him to you by the collar of his cloak, shoving your lips against his. He smiles against you, tightening his grip on your throat. Not enough to hurt, just enough so that you can feel the pressure.

He slides his hand into your pants, laughing at how wet your panties are. He rubs your clit through the fabric, moving his lips to suck and bite at your neck.

“D’you want me, baby?”

You bite your lip and nod, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Please.”

He’s ripping your panties off and tugging his boxers down in an instant, pulling up his cloak just enough so that he has easy access. He rubs the head of his cock through your folds, gathering up your slick. He kisses you deeply just as he sinks his cock inside of you.

You never get used to the stretch, the delicious feeling of him moulding your walls to the shape of his cock.

He pulls out and thrusts back in, his cock going even deeper. You whine, throwing your head back. He laughs at your moans and keeps going, shoving into you at a brutal pace. You cry out in response, the moans falling out before you can stop them.

His hand clamps over your mouth. “Shh, be quiet. Do you really want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me? Do you want someone to walk in on you fucking the killer like a whore?”

His words only make you wetter, pussy clenching tighter around him. It only eggs him on more, his thrusts becoming harder and more forceful as he nears his high.

“Mm, I forgot you like being my slut,” he laughs in your ear, gasping whenever you clench around him. “Fucking me in the bed of the guy I just killed for you?”

You hate how much his words turn you on, hate how they only push you further towards your climax. You dig your nails into his shoulders, bunching up the black fabric.

He slams harder into you and you know he’s close. You wrap your arms around him, tugging him in closer. He thrust a few more times, movements sloppier, before his cock twitches and you’re filled with hot cum.

The feeling of his cum pooling inside of you is enough to send you over the edge, leaving you a whimpering, shaking mess beneath him.

He kisses your forehead, holding you closer to him. “As sexy as you look covered in blood, you should probably change.”

“What are you gonna do?”

He plants a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, ‘kay?”

You nod, rolling out of his arms and standing up on shaky legs. You’re covered in bed, your clothes absolutely soaked through. You head straight for the bathroom, soaking a cloth to wipe the blood from your skin.

“Y/n,” he knocks gently, “I left some of my clothes out here for you to change into. Go through the window and head through the basement door—I don’t want you getting caught up in this.”

You change into his clothes, trying to ignore the light bruises on your throat and thighs. You love how his clothes fit on you, though. You love being claimed by him.

You do as he says, sneaking through the basement door and pretending like you were just bringing up another case of beer.

Randy turns his head to look at you, and for a minute you think that you’re caught. He’s going to say something about your disappearance and change of clothes.

Instead, he just shakes his head at you. “Where’ve you been? You missed Basic Instinct!”

An arm wraps around your shoulder, the familiar cream coloured sweater draping over you. “She was just helping me get more beer,” Stu shrugs.

Randy makes a face, but says nothing. He turns back to the tv, and Stu takes that as an opportunity to kiss your neck. “Just so you know,” his voice is barely a whisper in your ear, “I’m keeping the mask on next time.”

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moonsgemini · 10 months

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dress - rafe cameron

summary: she’ll always wish she could enjoy the midsummer’s celebrations instead of working at it, but her secret moments with the kook prince make the bad tips worth it

warnings: rafe x pogue!reader, typical classist stuff but not from rafe, fluff, angst, mutual pining, alcohol, kissing

wc: 3.5k

an: this is based off of dress by taylor swift but my own interpretation of it I guess. If you guys want a pt. 2 with smut let me knoooow, I’m such a s!ut for rafe cameron pleaaaase

our secret moments in a crowded room, they got no idea about me and you

Midsummer was probably her least favorite day of summer. You’d think that being a bartender on the day that the whole figure eight came to the country club would bring in lots of tips right? Well wrong. During midsummer’s the drinks were complimentary and there was just a tip jar for cash tips. Kooks don’t usually carry around cash, or really tip for that matter. Also seeing all the kooks dressed in their pretty dresses and cute flower crowns made y/n go green with jealousy. She desperately wished she could attend as a guest and get to dress up and enjoy the food. Y/n would be dreading this shift if she didn’t have something to look forward to.

She had looked over herself in the mirror a million times, making sure her dress still looked as good on her as it did in the dressing room mirror yesterday. The tag was securely tucked into her side because she may have run up her credit card to be able to afford it so she had to return it after. Bartenders didn’t have as strict as a uniform as the waiters did. Her manager allowing them to wear black dresses for the night, and of course she was going to jump at the opportunity to wear something nicer than her boxy polo uniform and tennis skirt.

Her makeup and hair had been done to the best of her ability, without it seeming like she was trying too hard. Y/n would never admit to any of her friends or family that she was dressed up in order to impress a certain kook prince. The same kook prince she had spent months crushing on, and he never helped make the crush go away because he would shamelessly flirt with her every time he was at the country club. It was more like banter, she had a feeling he never really meant anything he said. But it felt so good to feel wanted.

When Rafe would see her around the outer banks he would smirk at her or give her a nod as to say hi. At parties sometimes he’d go up to her and make some small conversation. Teasing her about what drink she had or making sure that she didn’t give her number to that guy that was flirting with her. They’d be making conversation and she would take a step towards him wanting nothing more than to be wrapped in his arms and his scent. But then her friends would come and think they were saving her from the kook prince and pull her away, sending a glare Rafe’s way. She’s look back at him apologetically and he’d just give her a tight lipped smile and walk to the other side of the party.

Rafe really liked her, he liked making her laugh and smile. He wished he could make her quit her job and just come live with him, he’d take care of her. She’d never have to worry about bills or rent ever again. His friends always made fun of him for flirting with a pogue but he didn’t care. They’d say he was scraping the bottom of the barrel, that he had already gone through all the girls from figure eight so now he was entertaining a pogue. Rafe never let them get away with their jokes. He’d glare at them and punch them in the arm or kick them in the shin. He’d defend her honor saying she’s different and she’s a better friend than they’ll ever be.

All Rafe could do was think about her while he was getting ready. He knew she’d be there and he wanted to look extra nice. Tonight felt like the night he would actually ask her out. Y/n was a good listener, she was always there for him. At first he thought it was just because she was stuck behind the bar so she had to listen to him, but then he’d see her at parties and she still had that look in her eyes. That look that she was listening to him, actually listening to him. He felt like he was on a cloud with the way she looked at him like he was the most important thing in the world.

When she arrived to the country club she started getting all her things ready, the guests would start arriving in a few minutes. Stocking up on scotch and the best wines, she knew those would be the popular drinks tonight. As she worked diligently her mind wandered to Rafe, like it always did.

She wondered if he’d be the same as always despite his family being here. She wanted nothing more than to spend the night with him, but not while she served him drinks. She wanted to dance with him and drink with him, and then go home together at the end of the night.

Guests had started arriving, her eyes looking out for the dirty blonde. She was so excited and a bit anxious to see him all dressed up, knowing he’d look extra handsome. An hour had passed and she still hadn’t seen him. The country club was now filled with kooks and her tip jar only filled with about $20 when she’s certain she’s made twenty martinis and poured just as many scotch’s.

As she was handing Mrs.Weatherby her glass of merlot smiling at the older woman her eyes caught her favorite blue ones. Rafe stood across the room with Kelce and Topper. He wasn’t paying any attention to what Topper was saying as he watching y/n from across the room. When their eyes met a lopsided smile formed on his lips. Her cheeks felt hot as he looked her up and down, as much as he could despite the bar being in the way.

Y/n begged with her eyes for him to come over, to save her from the boring night. He knew her better than she thought as he started walking over, saying something to the guys that he’d be back. But as he was crossing the room his dad stepped in front of him.

Ward put a hand on his son’s shoulder, “Rafe please, don’t start drinking yet. This is supposed to be a nice night okay? Lets take it slow.” He turned him around to walk out toward the patio.

“Yeah sure dad.” He muttered not wanting to make a scene. He followed him out but looked behind him to catch the eyes of the girl he was infatuated with.

His heart sank a little as he saw her bright eyes dull a little with sadness. She tried her best to put on a smile and not show her disappointment but he knew her better than she thought. Ward had no idea of Rafe’s crush and even if he did he probably wouldn’t care. He’d probably be disappointed in his son for liking someone like her, then he’d tell him that she probably only wants him for his trust.

all of this silence & patience, pining & anticipating, my hands are shaking from holding back from you

The first few hours of the night their eyes just met, hers pleading him to come over and talk to her. Give her something to think about tonight before she went to bed. His eyes begged her to forgive him for not giving her the attention she deserved, especially in that dress. He hoped that she wore it just for him, it made her look ethereal. Rafe’s legs ached from trying to stop himself from walking over and kissing her with everything he had.

As the night went on she was always on his mind. He hated this stupid midsummer’s stuff, mostly because he couldn’t share it with the one person he wanted. It was filled with snobby people and teenager’s getting drunk on booze they had snuck in.

Rafe kept getting stuck in conversations with his dad’s colleagues, Ward wanting him to be more involved in the business. Or he’d be with Topper, Kelce, and some other guys having a meaningless conversation about lacrosse or surfing. Whenever he got the chance he’d look over at her and she’d have a smile on her face handing some old dude a drink. He knew it wasn’t her real smile, then her eyes would look over at him and that’s when her real smile would come out.

“Uh I’m gonna get a drink,” Rafe said trying to excuse himself from his friends. His dad would be fine with him having a drink now, it’s been three hours since the night started. Three hours of his fingers tingling with the want of tucking that hair that kept falling in her face behind her ear.

“I’ll go with you dude. I need a refill,” Topper said holding up his empty glass. Rafe held in the urge to roll his eyes, he wanted to go alone.

y/n was wiping down the bar when they approached. She looked up meeting eyes with her favorite boy, but then she looked over to his left and their Topper was

“What can I get you guys?” She asked looking between them, smiling at Rafe.

“Long island,” Topper said placing his empty glass down.

“Can I get a rum and coke please?” Rafe asked, resting his hands on the bar.

“Of course,” she nodded with a grin.

Rafe watched her as she prepared the drinks. Topper was trying to talk to him about who knows what, he couldn’t care less. He couldn’t pay attention even if he wanted to with that dress she had on. It fit her so perfectly, he wondered what it’d feel like under his hands. What it’d feel like to push it up as he touched the expanse of her thighs. Wondered what it’d feel like to hold her waist as he kissed her. If her skin was as soft as it looked.

“Bro you’re not even listening,” Topped said as he hit Rafe’s shoulder.

“Long island,” Y/n places the drink in front of him.

“You’re right I’m not.” Rafe rolled his eyes.

Topper took his drink without even thanking her, “Whatever dude I’m gonna find Sarah.” Finally Rafe was alone with his girl.

She placed his glass in front of him, “So where have you been all night?”

“Uh my dad didn’t want me to drink earlier,” He shrugged. He knew it was a half assed excuse.

“You don’t need to order a drink to come see me.”

He ran a hand through his hair, “I-I know but my dad thought that I was just coming over for a drink.”

She laughed bitterly not at Rafe but at the whole situation, “When I’m with you I forget I’m a uh pogue.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me,” He reached out to touch her lightly. She leaned into his touch slightly, yearning to feel anything from him.

Her manager walked in, “Y/n, take your fifteen.” Taking over he place behind the bar, Rafe pulled his hand away from her.

“Uh yeah,” She gave him a tight lipped smile before walking to the back room. Rafe sighed and walked back out to where his friends were.

if I get burned at least we were electrified, I’m spilling wine in the bath tub you kiss my face & we’re both drunk

Y/n stood in the back leaning against the wall. She hated this town. She hated the labels everyone put on each other, it made her life so much harder. It was so easy when she was around Rafe even if it was a few minutes at a time. But then there was always something that reminded her of who she was and where she came from. It was either Ward, her friends, Rafe’s friends, her bosses. Someone always had to remind her where she was and who she was.

She rolled her eyes at herself. She walked into the back, in search of a bottle of wine. She found one she thought she’d like, popping it open and pouring herself a glass. Y/n felt like she deserved it, especially after tonight. The night wasn’t going exactly as planned, so she might as well drink.

After three full glasses of red wine her break was over. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to drink while on the clock because now everything looked a little fuzzy.

“I’m back,” She slurred to her manager.

Lisa eyed her suspiciously, “Are you drunk?”

“No never,” She gave her a toothy grin trying to hide her tipsiness. The alcohol affecting her more and more as the seconds passed.

Lisa sighed, “Y/n you can’t be like this here right now. You know how bad this would look. If you get one of these jerk offs orders wrong and they smell that merlot on your breath they’ll have you banned.” Lisa tried her best to look out for the girl because she knew she didn’t have anyone that was looking out for her.

Her eyes watered at the thought of losing the only job she had been able to get on this whole island, “I-I can’t lose this job. I need this.”

Lisa sighed, “Go home. I’ll cover for you, and you can still keep the tips okay? Only because I care about you.”

Y/n sniffled bringing the older woman into a hug, “Thank you Lisa, I owe you.”

“Get home safe okay, call someone.” Lisa said rubbing her back. She walked (stumbled a bit) to the back to grab her bag.

even in my worst times you could see the best of me

Y/n didn’t know who to call, her friends were all at parties probably drinking as well. Her parents weren’t in her life. The one person who could help her had been watching her from across the room. Concern written all over his face. She looked at him with teary eyes and he was already taking long strides towards her. She met him halfway, the tag from her dress itching her side.

“Rafe,” Her voice was shaky as she hugged herself looking for some comfort. She knew this was all her fault, she shouldn’t have had that wine. She felt like she was always making mistakes like this.

Rafe’s hands held her face, “What happened? Did someone do something?” He asked with worry and a bit of anger. If one of these kooks made his girl cry they’d have him to deal with.

“No no I did something. I-I drank some wine on my break. I’m drunk Rafe and Lisa told me to go home. She um she said she’ll let me keep the tips today but uh can you take me h-home?” She asked barely taking a breath.

He brushed her hair back, “Hey breathe, I’ll take you home okay baby.”

“I’m sorry Rafe, I-I shouldn’t take you away. I feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. I’m glad I get to get away from this shit, especially if it’s with you.”

Ward had been watching the interaction from outside. He eyed as his son held the bar tender who he felt was trying to hard to look like she fit in with them, her dirty sneakers gave her away. In her defense you can’t really bartend in heels.

He walked over to them before they could leave, “Uh Rafe, what are you doing?” He didn’t spare a glance at the disheveled girl.

Rafe stood up straight, “I’m taking her home dad.”

“Who is this? The bartender? You can’t leave now. There’s still some guys I need to introduce you to.” He treated her like she was nothing.

“No dad I’m taking her home, this is more important.” Rafe wrapped his arm around her shoulders to lead her towards the exit.

Ward grabbed his arm as he tried to walk past him, “Don’t disappoint me son.”

He shrugged his shoulder to get him off, “You’ve made it clear plenty of times that it’s too late for that.”

They didn’t make a big scene but some people had been watching. They watched as the oldest Cameron led the girl outside, a pogue. Tomorrow word would spread all across the island just how cozy they were. Ward would berate Rafe about it but right now he didn’t care, he just wanted to get his girl away from everyone.

Y/n couldn’t believe Rafe had done that for her. He dropped everything for her, she really did feel like he was a prince.

only bought this dress so you could take it off

Rafe kept glancing over at her as he drove to her house. He was worried about her, she looked so sad and he hated seeing her sad. Her head was leaning agains the passenger window just looking out into the darkness.

“Sweetheart what’s wrong?” He finally asked breaking the silence.

She sighed looking over at him, “I feel like an idiot.”

“Why?”

“I put on this stupid dress that I can’t even afford and I got too drunk while I was working. I took you away from the party.” She shook her head at herself.

Rafe pulled into the driveway of her small house, her grandma had left it for her after she passed a few years ago. It was the perfect house for her but now she had to work overtime to keep up with bills.

“Lets talk once we get inside,” Rafe turned the car off and ran over to open her door.

They walked into her house, Rafe had never been there. This is the most time they’ve ever been able to spend alone, without anyone being able to interrupt them or pull them away from each other. He liked her house, it was very her. Warm lighting and pictures everywhere. She sat on the couch setting her bag onto the ground.

“You look amazing, this dress looks amazing on you.” He said as he sat next to her. She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I wore this for you. I wanted to impress you, instead I embarrassed myself.” She closed her eyes thinking about the events of the night.

Rafe turned to her, “I would drop everything for you. I have been dying inside to spend this night with you.”

“Really?” She asked looking at him with stars in her eyes.

“Yes, baby. And this dress does look amazing on you. You look perfect. I’ve wanted you since the first day we met at the club.” He tucked her hair behind her ear.

Her face flushed at the compliments, “But why? I’m just me. I don’t have anything, I can’t even afford this dress. I’m just a bartender.”

He shook his head, “None of that shit matters to me. You actually listen to me and you care about me more than my shithead friends ever have. I only go to those stupid parties to see you.”

“Rafe, I care about you so much.”

He couldn’t take it anymore, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his. They were slightly swollen from the few tears she had shed earlier in the night. Her lips tasted like merlot she had downed. They moved in sync as if they had been doing this forever. He smelt like expensive cologne and she wanted to drown in it, she wanted to drown in him. His lips felt so good against hers, she had been dreaming about this moment for ages.

Her hands slid up his chest and into his hair. Pulling at the dirty blonde locks to encourage him. Rafe’s hands slid up and down her waist. Finally feeling the dress he had thought about all night. As the kiss grew more passionate he grabbed her hips and tugged her towards him. He pulled her to sit on his lap, her legs on either side of him. His fingers slowly slid up her thighs pushing her dress farther up, almost fully around her hips. Y/n’s thighs were just as soft as he imagined. His mind was racing with thoughts of everything he wanted to do to her.

The small whines that left her lips encouraged him to keep going. One hand moving behind her to give her ass a squeeze. He pulled away to press kisses against her neck making goosebumps rise on her skin. Her hands moving back and forth from tugging his hair to pulling at his blazer to get him impossibly closer.

“Baby,” He mumbled against her neck. She just hummed in return, too lost in the feeling of his lips on her. Tasting her like she’s always wanted him to.

“I want to keep going, but I know you’ve drank tonight. I want you to be be a hundred percent sober when I do everything I’ve always dreamed about doing to you,” He said looking up at her. He almost regretted his words and took her right then and there when he saw her swollen lips and hazy lust filled eyes.

She took a deep breath to get herself to focus. Her senses were overloaded on Rafe, “Okay, can you stay? Please?”

He leaned forward giving her another kiss, “Of course, I’ll always stay.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron au #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #outer banks

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ilycosy · 3 months

Note

bottom luke! bottom luke! bottom luke—

i may be a subbottom but a gal can dream !!! (also my friend eats bottom luke up so :3)

i js know that he'd be such a 50/50 guy tbh !!! ur either getting the sweetest boy ever or the biggest brat ever (headcanons !!!!)

warnings : TLT SPOILERS , afab + amab! reader , pegging , overstim , dacryphilia , creampie , petnames (pretty boy, sweet boy, princess) , daddy & mommy kink , loving sex but also toxic , also YES i feminized luke

afab reader (mommy kink)

୨୧ — he's definitely more on the good boy spectrum with somebody that has a mommy kink, especially if they're on the softer side of it?? he's so whipped and ready to listen

୨୧ — gets super embarrassed though when it's brought up, being the best swordsman at camp he definitely struggles with the need to be dominant or prove himself capable of taking care of you (which he can !! you just like taking care of him more)

୨୧ — ok now onto the actual sex !! he's superr whiny, like im talking high pitched and having to muffle his noises in the bed type whiny. hes constantly out of breath and panting when being prepped, no matter the amount of fingers

୨୧ — he says he prefers smaller straps because they're easier to take but i think he's just a little insecure (that can be fixed w a little bit of talking)

୨୧ — weak at the mfing knees for being called a good boy— "you're such a good boy for mommy!" "good boy, now turn around." "be a good boy for me?" — he's a puddle on the floor now

୨୧ — he definitely gets jealous if he finds out you've pegged others (i said it was a lil toxic !!!) so he ends up with his own toys, mainly out of spite rather than actual concern for germs (also ,, who doesn't love custom stuff ??)

୨୧ — as an apology for the betrayal, he basically begs you to use him (his words not mine) he lowk doesn't want you to stop until he's crying and can't cum anymore. he tries to run off before aftercare and tbh won't accept it due to guilt (unless you join him , like i said , he's toxic)

— afab reader 🤝 amab reader = calling luke pretty boy

amab reader (daddy kink)

୨୧ — different from afab, i think he would lean more on the bratty side. he definitely has issues with accepting men as authority figures (look at his dad) so i think it might take some getting used to being the bottom (esp the sub)

୨୧ — he never talks about it, especially when others could potentially hear. he likes making people believe that he's the dominant one in the relationship even though he's not and both of you know it

୨୧ — actual sex !! he's still super whiny, but he probably tries to hide it a lot more. he chokes up a lot on his own spit from holding it in (dw just force his mouth open !!) but for some reason he seems to like it better that way, being forced to make noise

୨୧ — doesn't really matter how big you are, but he definitely leans more on size queen... !! he tries to hide it but he can't help but buck his hips back onto your cock when it's near

୨୧ — he will never admit it, but being called princess and being treated like he's fragile will always get him going— "cmere princess, come sit." "shh princess, you don't want people to hear do you?" "are you seriously that desperate for daddy's cock princess?" — he's WEAK !!!!

୨୧ — don't ever and i mean ever talk about your sex life in front of others, you don't even need to have slept with people for him to be clawing at your back to make sure you know you're his later !!

୨୧ — he definitely expects you to join his side w the betrayal, he can't fathom putting sm trust and allowing a masc authority figure in his life like that only for you to side w others— he begs and pleads during the hate (or love if you're going w him) fuck for you to cum in him so he has something

★ general note, while i wrote this w fem & masc readers in mind (duh) i think luke doesn't care abt genitals and relies more on terms w how he acts !!! like if you were afab but liked to be called daddy he'd be more bratty & vice versa <3

#cosywriting #cosynsfw #cosyreqs #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan smut #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan fic #🎀 asks #castellanswrld #male reader #female reader

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psychickiss · 6 months

Text

smile!

— saiki kusuo x reader (gn, 2nd pov)

— summary: Helping out Saiki has its perks—example, he smiles for a picture with you on what would look like a date to outsiders.

— notes: this was an old fic i posted from june! edited it a little and finally remembered to reup here :-)

— things: hmmmm i guess the reader's relationship with saiki is kind of romantic? but the overall dialogue and stuff is platonic :-)

— masterlist | request form

When Saiki couldn’t go to Toritsuka for help, he’d approach you.

You weren’t explicitly aware of his powers, but you’ve had your suspicions. Though, it was something you never brought up in conversation with Saiki.

Whenever you do help Saiki out, you assure him that he isn’t in debt to you. This results in Saiki going out of his way to silently pay you back. He knows your words are true, but he wasn’t okay with a good deed going unrewarded.

Additionally, you were okay with doing just about anything. Help him stay away from the sports festival? Sure, you hated it too. Join the Occult club so there’s a not-so-annoying familiar face? Why not? The club seemed like it wouldn’t be too much work.

Talk to a guy from another class for Saiki? Okay.

You weren’t the best at starting a conversation, and neither was Satou Hiroshi. Why Saiki wants to know his interests, you didn’t bother asking. It wasn’t your business.

Opening a conversation with Satou wasn’t hard at all—you figured you could just lie on the spot. “Hi, Satou. Truth be told, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. I want to make friends from every section, and I thought I’d talk to you.”

Satou looks up at you, surprised. “Me? But, I’m not as interesting as the other guys here... Like Toritsuka–”

You abruptly shake your head. “I’ve interacted enough with him. I’m good. But, you... You just have a calming presence, you know? Puts people at ease.”

Saiki, from afar, listens in on your conversation. You had suggested to be on call with him as you made conversation with Satou.

Listening in on your conversation with Satou was something Saiki could do without the help of technology, but you didn’t know that, so Saiki agreed. This made you one of the really few people in Saiki’s phone contacts.

You pull an empty chair near Satou and sit on it. “So, tell me, what do you like? Any favorite bands, drinks, stuff like that?”

Satou happily answers you. “One OK Rock! I love their songs! Ah, I drink a lot of peach tea, too.”

You smile at Satou. “Oh, that’s nice. Do you have any hobbies?”

“I like to read.”

You nod. Average hobby. I like to read too. Everyone likes reading to a certain degree. You then ask him, “Oh? What kind of stuff do you read?”

Satou hums. “Well, I read all kinds of books. I like to pick up a copy of Weekly Jump on Fridays; kind of a reward for getting through the week.”

“That’s so interesting...! Would you want to walk home with me later? That way, we could talk more.” You put your hand in your pocket, checking to see if your phone was still there. You proceed to stand up from the chair and put it back in its place.

Satou awkwardly laughs in response. “I’m sorry, but I have a few errands to do after school, I wouldn’t want to drag you around with me. Maybe some other time.”

You laugh back. “It’s alright. There’s no need for you to apologize! I’ll be on my way now. Good luck with class, Satou.”

“Thank you, you too.” Satou waves before walking away.

You take out your phone and hold it close to your ear. “So? Is that all?”

Saiki hums. “Yes. Thank you.”

“How are you going to get this week’s Jump? We aren’t allowed to leave schoolgrounds until classes are over.”

Saiki answers you, “I have my ways.”

You furrow your brows. “Alright... Why do you want to hang out with him, anyway? No offense, but he’s kind of... bland.”

“That’s exactly why I want to talk to him. Also, we can stop the call. I can see you walking towards me.”

You sigh and end the call, continuing your conversation with Saiki face-to-face. “Alright... And you’re sure he’ll talk to you?”

Saiki shrugs.

You reply flatly, “That’s reassuring. I’ll be at Café Mami if things go well, or not. The usual booth. I’ll just text you.”

I could use clairvoyance to find you, but that works.

...

You enter Café Mami, alone for the time being, and look for an empty booth. You spot one and head straight to it, setting your bag down. You text Saiki.

You:

Do you want coffee jelly?

Saiki:

👍🏼

You:

How’s it going with Satou?

Saiki:

I’m waiting for him by the gate. I have a copy of this week’s Jump with me, and I bought peach tea from the cafeteria.

You:

Okay. This means you’ll be going to Café Mami though, right?

Saiki:

I’m just going for the coffee jelly.

You smile at his message before closing your phone. Keep telling yourself that, Saiki.

The manager approaches you and takes your order; you order something for yourself, and two cups of coffee jelly for Saiki. One for him to eat here, and...

“The other coffee jelly is to-go, thank you.”

You open your phone again and search up the band Satou mentiond, One OK Rock. You rummage your bag for your earphones, but to your dismay, you couldn’t find it.

You quietly sigh to yourself. I guess... I’ll listen with my phone really close to my ear. God, I hope no one hears.

You choose a song and pleasantly listen to it. This actually isn’t so bad. Might add this to my playlist– the song stops. You check the notification.

Saiki:

Hello. I am on my way there.

You:

Take care. ♡

You see Saiki enter Café Mami, and your eyes dart towards the earphones he’s wearing. You point at it. “Those are mine! Where did you get those?”

Saiki sits down as he answers you, “Your bag.”

“You didn’t ask...!”

The manager approaches you two. “Here’s your order. The coffee jelly to-go will be served shortly.”

Saiki looks at you, confused about that last sentence.

“Ah, I ordered a second one for you to enjoy at home.”

Saiki’s eyes sparkle at your words.

You bring your order closer to you. “So, how did things go with Satou?”

Saiki slumps his shoulders and dejectedly hands you back your earphones. “I’ll be taking both coffee jellies to-go, thanks.”

Your voice was riddled with panic, “Huh–?! No, don’t go! Is it that bad?”

“He didn’t talk to me.”

You laugh. “That’s it? Did you even try to talk to him? You’re not the most chatty person I know.”

Saiki nods. “I had everything he liked; Weekly Jump, peach tea, and I was listening to One OK Rock. I even smiled at him.”

You hold back your laughter, you didn’t want Saiki to feel worse than he already did. “Maybe... Maybe he didn’t talk to you because he knew you stole my earphones.”

Irritated, Saiki replies, “That is totally unrelated”

You shrug. “Yeah.” You decide to tease him, “Maybe your smile was weird. Off-putting. I mean, you don’t smile a lot.”

Saiki shakes his head. “My smile wasn’t weird.”

“I’ll have to see for myself.”

“No.”

“You’re no fun.”

Saiki doesn’t reply to your comment, opting to finally eat the coffee jelly in front of him.

“Here’s the coffee jelly to-go. Your order’s complete. Thank you!”

You smile at the waiter and gently push the paper bag with the coffee jelly inside towards Saiki.

Hm... Maybe if he smiled at Satou like that, then they’d be hanging out like this. Ah, then I wouldn’t be able to see Saiki so happy. Perhaps I’ll be selfish, just this once.

Saiki thought to himself as he ate the coffee jelly. For someone who’s had their suspicions about my powers, you sure think rather shamelessly. You’ve done a lot for me, so I’ll let you have this.

Saiki finishes his coffee jelly. “Take out your phone.”

You do as told, although clueless to Saiki’s intentions. “Okay...?”

“I’ll show you the smile I gave to Satou.”

You move over in your seat so Saiki could sit beside you. He takes the hint and walks over to you.

You two smile and you snap a picture, the smile on your face still there as you examine it. Saiki returns to his seat.

You two were smiling, but you were the only one looking at the camera. You look up from your phone, then at Saiki. “Why were you looking at me?”

He’d then respond, “I wasn’t ready.” You looked happy.

#saiki kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo #saiki k #saiki x reader

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scientia-rex · 4 months

Note

Do you have any moisturization tips? :0

Oh DO I!

Listen, skin has two jobs: keeping you in, and everything else out. Skin has to do a lot of complicated stuff to make that happen. Skin is chock full of glands and pores and whatnot. There's dermis (deeper layer) and epidermis (shallower layer), and 99% of what we're doing from the outside is about the epidermis.

Epidermis grows in as layers--there's a bottom layer that has cells that will just keep dividing forever, and then the cells that divide off that layer will start getting pushed up towards the surface of your skin. As they get pushed up, the cells get flatter and more keratinized and eventually dead.

That "stratum basal" is where you have your forever-dividing cells. So when you start something like Accutane, you can't transform the skin layers above it--you can only start affecting the skin as it marches upward towards its death and flaking off, so you have to give it months to take full effect. And we NEED to have some dead skin. It protects us.

Skin cells have proteins that hold them to each other. The goal is to form a watertight barrier. We need to keep water in because we are basically bags of water. Different protein issues (largely genetic) can cause different skin diseases.

Our skin also has glands that make protective oils (forming a powerful anti-bacterial barrier and trapping moisture inside) and sweat (because we DO want to be able to get rid of water, but only when WE want to).

So here's the thing about commercial moisturizers: none of them can put moisture back in your skin. That's just not a thing. The very best thing they can do is keep further water from leaving your skin. This is especially important if you have eczema, where you stand a good chance (about 50%) of lacking ceramides, which are critical to forming the natural skin barrier. As water evaporates off the skin, it takes more water with it. We don't understand the other half of eczema. Psoriasis involves dysfunction of the keratinization process, which is why those plaques form.

So the best moisturizers are those that create a moisture barrier without evaporating more water off. Any moisturizer where alcohol is a significant ingredient is worthless. Vaseline, or straight white petrolatum, is the best moisturizer. It feels greasy because it is. Its job is to form a watertight barrier, and greasy chemical are a lot better at that than thinner, waterlike chemicals. Moisturizers with silicones, like Aveeno (dimethicone is the active ingredient--I know, the bottle says oatmeal, it's a liar), will provide a fairly robust barrier without as greasy of a feeling. Lanolin, from sheep's wool, is also a great ingredient for forming a barrier, which is why I like Neutrogena Norwegian Formulation. Natural oils like jojoba (the best of the bunch) can be moisturizing, but just FYI, they're a tiny fraction as effective as white petrolatum. Like, less than 10%. I'm too lazy to get up and find my Cosmeceuticals textbook to remind myself exactly how much. So if you want "all natural," resign yourself to worse.

BUT!!!! Your skin is not all the same! You have scalp skin, face skin, neck skin, trunk skin, arm skin, leg skin, skin around your genitals, skin of the palms, and skin of soles of the feet. And all of those can act different. So I can't say "apply Vaseline everywhere" because that might be too much skin barrier for your face--what if your face has oil glands that work perfectly well? What if we need a lighter, less occlusive moisturizer? That's where my personal hell was for the last ten years as I struggled to find a facial moisturizer I like! What if you have oil glands that are overproductive? You may need a totally different moisturizer than I need! No good way to figure it out except trial and error while paying close attention to ingredient lists.

Sunblock is also a good thing to have but as someone who doesn't wear it because a) I don't go outside and b) it always breaks me out, I feel hypocritical talking extensively about it. I wear "dad hats" (at least a 2" brim all the way around) and long sleeves while gardening. You should definitely still wear sunscreen, though. Do as I say, not as I do.

#the attending dr. kristophine #but GO AHEAD AND LECTURE ME ON DANDRUFF AND EAR CARE AND WASHING ONE'S VAGINA because SURELY I KNOW NOTHING right Internet #none of those idiots who jump on my other posts to well actually me know what the fuck they're talking about

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fraugwinska · 5 days

Note

What about the reader found and old radio, they thought the radio was broken but it's not, it's just antique.. when they play it at night time alastor broadcast was heard first they feel something is odd.. but they love to listen to his voice, heck they even like talking to each other, because of this encounter alastor talk about it to rosie, she was happy hearing alastor telling her stories but she feel odd when alastor mention that the person he talks to is a human, Rosie giving him advice to not fall for human because they're different species, and it will make him weak etc.

Alastor feel guilty and agree with rosie advice so he's stop contacting the reader from the radio, he thinks that the reader will be fine but no the reader take it personally.. they thought alastor don't want to talk to them anymore.. it drive them mad and lead to suicide..

So yeah angst :D

Oh Anon. What have you done.

I cried while I wrote that - it took two very good friends of mine to encourage me to post it (Thanks to @macabr3-barbi3 and @mysterypotatoink). But I think it's tragic and beautiful, and honestly - I'm kinda proud of it!

TW: Psychological Trauma, descend into madness, loss of self care and suicide - please take care of yourself and do not read if you aren't comfortable with any of the mentioned! MINORS DNI

Here we go.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Leap of Faith

You carried in the last box from you banged-up minivan. The old thing barely made it to your new home. A little cabin in the outskirts of New Orleans, a little off the grid and surrounded by the peaceful and whirring bayous of Louisiana.

A fixer-upper, just like yourself.

The online auction had intrigued you the second you found it, the photos were a bit blurry and you knew it was a risk to buy a place you've never set foot in, but something in you called you to get it. The price you paid was laughable, barely making a dent in your savings. Moving states sounded scary and impossible, but you felt oddly calm about it.

You didn't have a lot of stuff to move anyway. After all, you only lived with your late grandmother, and she never really cared for material things. Your parents left you at her doorstep, never to be seen again.

Caring for her in her last, sickness-ridden years had been a no-brainer - it felt like nothing in comparison to all she had done for you - but it also had been a bit lonely.

You had your friends, if you could even call them that, but you rarely saw them - guiding your nan through the last months of her life had been demanding and time-consuming. It had left you exhausted and emotionally unavailable, and after a while, calls and texts ceased, until it was just you and her. You felt lost, as if the world was slowly pulling away from you.

When she finally died, peacefully in her sleep, you felt sad, relieved and drained.

Detached from the city you lived in.

Lost.

So you decided to sell what little you inherited, except for a few sentimental mementos, and move away from it all. To start a new life, a happier one, finally one that was truly your own.

You took the final box inside, setting it on the coffee table and wiped the sweat from your brow. You looked around the little cabin: The roof had some spots that needed a patch, and the wood floors were a bit warped, but it was all yours. No more having to share anything with anyone.

The cabin came furnished, a lot of the stuff was old, but still usable. You figured that would change once you settled in and had a vision of what you wanted and needed to buy. The thought of thinking about no one but yourself made you nervous.

But a little excited, too.

The old furniture would do for the moment, but there was a particular piece that caught your eye: an old, vintage cathedral radio, sitting nestled in between a cracked wooden box and a tarnished, bronze candle holder in a bookcase that was a bit out of place in the tiny space. With a tilted head, you stepped closer to inspect it, drawn to it by it's unique character and beauty.

It looked as well-loved as it looked well-used, the mahogany a bit scuffed, the knobs a little worn from years of being turned. But there were golden details etched into the front, and you traced them lightly with a finger, strangely touched and intrigued.

You were certain the old thing didn't work, but when you plugged it into the nearby socket, static erupted from the speakers, making you jump back. You had to smile, though.

Tonight, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have this little device and a little music for good company.

***

"I'm home!" you announced to no one in particular, as you closed the door behind you, your hands full with overfilled grocery bags full of necessities, waiting to fill your empty cabinets.

The day had been hot, but a welcome breeze of the impending night break cooled the inside of your little cabin a bit. With a quiet grunt you set the paper bags down at the small kitchenette. Your groceries were quickly dispersed, and you put on an apron you saved from your grandmother as you got started on dinner.

You hummed as you cut vegetables and boiled water. It had been a long time since you had cooked, really cooked, your nan wasn't much for eating and had no problem living off of simple soups and toast. When you opened your fridge to get some butter, your glance fell onto the radio.

A little music would be nice, you decided, and you walked over, cleaning your hands on the red, frilly cloth around your waist before you turned the dial. The soft sound of static made you hum in contempt - yup. Still works. A little turn to the left, and the room was filled with a soft jazzy tune, the melody a bit grainy, but you didn't mind that at all. You returned to the stove, swaying your hips to the beat as you worked. The music made you feel at ease, and for a moment, the world seemed to be just right.

Just as the onions began to brown in the pan, the song faded out to a voice. You turned your head to the radio, intrigued by the unusual, eccentric accent of the host. It reminded you of the old, vintage films and recordings your grandmother had been fond of - wasn't it called 'transatlantic'?. Whatever it was, it made you smile.

"Now wasn't that a kick in the head, dearest listener? I sure hope you enjoyed the little musical interlude, but it's time to return to the real show! As usual, my name is Alastor, and you are listening to the best jazz, blues and swing music that Hell has to offer!"

You blinked, a little puzzled and yet amused. "Sure is hot as hell today, strange man in the radio.", you mumbled, chuckling as you stirred the bell peppers under the caramelized onions.

"Today we have a very special guest joining my humble broadcast, it seems. Pleasure to meet you, darling, quite the pleasure!"

"Oh who? Me?" you asked, looking theatrically over your shoulder with batted lashes, shaking your head over your own silliness. You weren't used to talking out loud to yourself, or even really thinking out loud. You were always alone, after all, but the little pretend-play was fun. You laughed a bit, waiting for the host's guest to speak.

"Of course you, little dove. Who else would I mean?"

You gasped, and nearly dropped the spoon as you whipped around, eyes glued to the humming, orange glow of the radio in the dim darkness of your living room.

"What's that? You're surprised, my dear? Don't worry, you're not the only one! This is a first for me, too. Never had a human join my program. I must say, I'm quite intrigued! Tell me, what is your name?"

Your eyes grew wide, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. You took a hesitant step backwards and hit the hot stove, making you curse under your breath. Was the heat finally getting to you?

"Don't be shy now, darling. I'm not gonna hurt you, cross my lil' old, blackened heart."

"I-I'm..." you began, swallowing as your fingers tightened around the wooden spoon. "My name is..."

"Yes?"

"I'm... crazy.", you mumbled, rubbing a hand over your face and chuckling a bit. You were just going insane, that's all. Must be the stress, combined with the intense heat. And lack of a companion, a tiny voice reminded you. Yes. Must be.

"Hello crazy, this is Alastor." The host laughed, together with a canned audience.

"Alastor...", you repeated, realization settling in - this wasn't a joke, or a trick of your mind.

"At your service, my dear.", the voice cooed. "Now, I believe you still owe me your name..."

***

You weren't crazy.

Or if you were, you didn't mind. Not with Alastor by your side - or, to be exact, in the radio on your bookcase.

After two weeks of ignoring the cursed radio after unplugging it in a wave of panic on your first night, your morbid curiosity got the better of you. You plugged it back in, and turned on the dial. Just once, you told yourself, then never ever again.

And that's how the two of you got in contact with each other once more. Alastor was as chipper as the first time you heard him, and after a bit of back-and-forth, he promised once again not to harm you, and you shared your name with him. The rest was history. He was very pleasant company. For a demon from hell.

You wouldn't classify the conversations you had with him as a real friendship in the beginning, but you did talk. Occasionally. Mostly in the evenings, when you cooked dinner: He'd ask you about your day and would pry eagerly for a little bit of gossip or new information about the modern New Orleans. When he let it slip that he lived in this very cabin in the 1920's, you weren't stopping with questions about what it was like back in his days, which he, in return, answered generously and enthusiastically.

The first few times he would try to coerce you into making a deal for your soul, casually sprinkling the offer into his small talk, but with enough blunt refusals and a few more days of radio silence (pun intended), he dropped the topic and seemed content on just talking. You, in return, found yourself relaxing into his charming company, your brain happily engaged with trying to wrap your head around him, or better, you tried to come to terms with it.

Weeks passed, and turning the radio on in the evenings became less of an occasional lapse of judgment but more of a routine you were looking forward to. You could tell the Alastor felt the same, his banter became less tense and acted, and a little more genuine.

It made your heart swell in happiness, that someone out there seemed to appreciate your company – even if that someone wasn't human.

Apprehension became amusement, and fascination became friendship. Oddly enough, you found common grounds in a lot of things: A love for cooking and good music. Preferring books over films. Red wine over white. A shared aversion of vulgarity, and appreciation for good manners.

Your nights were cut shorter and shorter, you would spend hours chatting on and on, until the deep darkness of night disappeared into a shade of blue on the horizon. Neither of you minded, at least that was what you thought. Alastor never ended the conversations with you. Either you had to say your goodbyes, or you would just fall asleep after hours of talking on your couch, and awake with a pained back to a shut-off radio. Then, after you'd realize that you would have a whole day ahead of you without hearing his voice, the loss would make your chest ache.

Two months into the 'thing', which was still a strange concept you could barely comprehend, the truth of the matter dawned on you: You liked him. Not just because he was a surprisingly amicable voice coming out of your vintage radio, a lively constant in the uneventful life you had made for yourself in Louisiana - he had become important to you, irreplaceable, even. An essential element to your life. You couldn't imagine how you'd gone so long without him, and yet, here you were, lost without him, scrambling through the hours until you could talk to him once more.

"Something on your mind, darling? You're awfully quiet today."

You held your fork and knife still above the salmon you had just been about to eat. It was the first meal of the evening in a long time where you weren't spending the entirety of the preparation time speaking to him, lost in thought about your blossoming feelings. He had gotten excellent at reading you like an open book - you should've gotten used to it after a couple of weeks of him catching on to every little change in your demeanor and knowing just what to say, when you were feeling happy, upset or nervous.

"Oh, um... no. It's nothing Al. Work had me in a wringer today."

"Is it your co-worker Susan again?" You could basically hear his eyes rolling, making you chuckle. "That name must be cursed, every single soul with that name is a menacing pain."

"Maybe,", you muttered, nibbling on a piece of the roasted fish. "This one is mostly just an ornery old bitch."

"Taking the words right out of my mouth, dear." he laughed.

There's was a comfortable pause, with just a gentle background noise of his ever-playing static and an easy, melodic tune coming from his program.

"Is that really all that preoccupies that pretty little head of yours?"

You blushed, picking at the food with your fork. "Bold for a guy who's never seen me to assume my head is pretty."

The radio crackled with pops and feedback. "Bold to assume I can't see you whenever I want, little dove." he said, his voice strangely deeper, tinged with something you didn't catch at the shock of his words.

"You... what?"

"And I can most assure you,", he purred out of the speakers, "pretty is a well fitting word to describe you."

He hummed in approval when your cheeks gained color, as if he knew his comment threw you off guard and made you turn a lovely shade of pink, but it didn't make it any less enticing.

***

"Alastor, if I didn't know better, I would say you have become smitten with this mysterious gal you're blabbing on and about."

Rosie giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful, friendly swipe. "When will I meet her? Come on now, you can't hide her forever. Or are you afraid she'll like me better?"

She laughed, and Alastor forced a toothy grin. His long time friend was the only one he talked about you with, and he knew she was intrigued whenever she could smell a blooming dalliance, especially with a notoriously abstinent bachelor like himself. Normally, he would laugh at that thought with a healthy dose of mockery, but he found himself to be less and less aversed at the thought - if it would be you. Impossible, of course.

"Nonsense, Rosie dear, nonsense,", he chuckled, taking a large sip from his coffee cup, a heavy hand bringing up a plate stacked with finger sandwiches. "And I'm afraid you won't meet her for a long time, maybe never. Humans seldom traverse to hell in their lifetime, and who knows if the little darling will take on the trip downstairs?"

Rosie coughed in her tea, her blackened eyes wide in shock. "Human? It's a human girl you've been courting here? Oh, Alastor, you old fool."

Alastor scrunched his nose, "Talking, Rosie, talking is all we do. And yes, she's a human. I don't see the quandary in that. It's just a little fun."

"Well,", she huffed with a small, thoughtful frown. "I would've hoped for a little more sense in you." The tall demonesse set down her teacup with nimble fingers.

"You may not call it courting, but if it quacks like a duck, it's a duck, love." Rosie ignored the indignant look Alastor gave her. "You know as well as I do that such a connection is dangerous to entertain. Humans are fragile and fragile things tend to break. And when they do, the owner mostly follows. You need to break this connection off."

Rosie gave him a sad look as his ears flattened against his head. She would've been more than happy for her oldest and dearest friend to have a partner on his side, someone good and honest who really cared about him, maybe loved him even, as unlovable as he was. But she had to protect him from the silly idea of possibly falling for a living, breathing and supposedly untarnished soul, and the heartbreak that would surely follow. "Don't make the mistake of breaking your heart, dear friend." she smiled, a tint of melancholy hidden in the red of her lips.

"I think it's far too late for that."

She offered a handkerchief, but Alastor waved her off, his smile more faint and close to a frown than she's ever seen.

***

The first day where nothing but static noise came out of the radio, you were irritated but just thought: 'Maybe Alastor has something to do'.

The second day of static you grew concerned. 'What if something happened to Alastor? Was he okay?'.

On the third day, you were panicked. 'Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you anymore! Maybe he met someone in hell, someone that he could talk to whenever he wanted and not through an old, dusty radio?'.

"Please talk to me.", you whispered into the empty room. Your knees were pulled to your chest, and you sat on your couch, eyes fixed on the radio in the bookcase. Your eyes stung with the tears threatening to spill. "Please, Al. I miss you." You shook your head, chuckling sadly. It had only been 3 days, but they'd felt like an eternity. The world had seemed silent without Alastor's constant chatter.

When night fell for the fourth day, you were half asleep, eyes red and burning and tears still staining your cheeks. You talked for hours into the void of your house, the radio now moved to sit in front of you on the coffee table, growing more and more desperate as hours passed. Talking faded into pleading, and pleading into begging.

"Please, I'm sorry, if I did something wrong, I'm sorry...", you mumbled into the wooden furnishing, resting your cheek against the top of the machine, eyes slipping shut with fatigue and defeat. A dry sob slipped past your trembling lips, as your hands desperately grabbed the sides of the antique device.

"Alastor please, don't leave me alone here...", you whispered with the last of your strength, before your body succumbed to your exhaustion, your unconscious mind welcomed the darkness.

If you had stayed awake for just a moment more, you would've, maybe, heard the faint shuddering breath beyond the static rumble. But you didn't. So you had no chance at knowing that, Alastor, listening to every word, saw and heard you at your weakest, and all it did to him was stir the embers and give the blaze an opening for the flames of his anger at fate to rage.

Work had called, again. Susan of all people. Threats were made - either come back to work, or don't come back at all. You smashed your phone. It was useless anyway. What was the point without...

Alastor wasn't here, hadn't answered for seven days now. And you had spent the whole time talking, begging him to show himself, just show himself and tell you what you did wrong, just talk to you one last time and then you'd stop, if that was what he wanted. You became obsessed with the orange light of the illuminated screen, imagining the flickers were maybe signs from him.

You stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped almost anything, you just sat, in front of the radio, unmoving and unwilling to miss the smallest sign of his return.

Every single minute stretched into agony, and every breath that left your lips made a fresh tear roll down your paling cheeks, until your body couldn't produce them anymore. Then, you cried wordless whimpers and moans, even started praying to an unknown entity.

It wasn't as if Alastor owed you anything. It's not as though you thought the two of you were anything other than two kindred souls, one human, one demon, talking to each other. As a result, it wasn't like you had the right to anything from him.

It was strange to consider the connection the two of you shared: Something more than acquaintances, something closer than friends, and yet never fully crossing the line beyond it. The unpenetrable boundary dividing life and death in between.

Your eyes fell on a large, old crucifix on your wall, staring back at you with pity.

For the first time in days, you left the sofa, took it from the wall and burned it on your gas stove, watching the face of the nailed figurine slowly melt in the fire.

***

It had been eight days of excruciating, one-sided silence.

Eight days Alastor cursed his cowardice as he sat, red eyed with claws digging into his scalp, as he listened to you plead for him to talk - To answer. To do anything. Anything, but leave you alone, he heard, as if the words were spoken right in his ear.

Eight days of watching you slowly detriment from the eyes of the shadows he was able to manifest above, tugging on the very fabric of the world to move you, to keep your mind from going where it shouldn't go.

He kept telling himself it was for the better. His shadows murmured persistent reminders that he should find entertainment in your growing lunacy. He was the radio demon, after all. He shouldn't care if this wisp of a human were to perish, should laugh at your wails of agony and despair.

But Alastor never felt less like laughing. Your dried sobs and pained apologies for things you never did wrong in the first place filled his head, taunting and gnawing on him with feelings he thought he was unable to feel: Guilt and Regret.

It was as Rosie had predicted - he was becoming weak. But weakness was something that should be avoided. Had to be. He knew. Being weak, being feeble, would make him vulnerable, make him into the prey his cruel from already portrayed to the world he had to inherit. He couldn't allow it. Couldn't let his feelings for you bring him down to the levels of the sinners in hell he would tear apart and laugh while he did it.

That's why he stayed silent. Endured it, all of it, every word, cry and plea. Stayed invisible and silent, waiting for you to move on, forget him, shut off and leave the radio, never to turn the dial again. For your sake and his.

When the connection broke, on that eight day, Alastor could feel your resignation, your peace with which your pale hands gripped the electrical cord at it's base to pull. And he was suddenly filled with the awareness of something horrible, like a premonition. It set his already battered, aching heart in an ice cold grasp of dread.

His room exploded in green light as he expanded into his full demonic form, his limbs threatening to pull and burst at the stitches and his smile splitting his face almost entirely in half. He had to reach out, had to reform the connection to the radio one last time, even though nearly impossible.

You were about to do something he would never be able to forgive himself for.

***

Your car broke down just where it needed to. You took the radio out of the trunk, knocking the hood two times for a goodbye, the key safely in the ignition. Maybe some other poor soul would find and repair it, make happier memories with it.

You clutched the wooden device closer and started to walk. Indigo blue faded into black as you looked up to the sky that was sprinkled with glowing, shimmering silver dust, stars blinking in the unimaginable distance. There, but out of reach.

Just like him.

Your dry sob stung in your throat, but you didn't really feel the pain. Your eyes were fixed on the path to your final destination, right in front of you.

The Crescent City Connection Bridge was mostly abandoned by traffic at this time of night and provided just enough covered spaces to hide you from some foolish saviors eyes.

You didn't need to be saved.

You didn't want to be saved.

Because you were about to save yourself.

There was nothing waiting for you in the other direction than the one you were going. So, with slow but steady steps, you walked towards the middle of the bridge, settling on a place next to a metal pillar and looked over the railing onto the shimmering waters of the Mississippi River.

Alastor had told you about the river, how he loved to watch the steam boats floating on it from the radio station where he worked at when he was alive. The station was long gone, you didn't even find out where it had been in the first place, but you liked to imagine that you were looking at the same scenery now that he had been looking at when he peered out of his booth in his radio tower.

It made you smile through the tears... You were glad the end was somehow connected to him, even if it was most likely just your naive imagination.

It felt like the device in your arms was emitting static energy, prickling over your arms, hands and fingers as you caressed the mahogany wood gently, feeling as though the radio was shaking in your hands, trying to pull you back from the fenced ledge.

A quiet sob escaped your lips, turning into a giggle and into hysterical laughter. You sat down between the railing, and hugged the radio close, trying to breathe as you closed your eyes, resting your temple on the worn, warm wood.

"It'll be okay, Al.", you said quietly, your voice unnaturally hoarse and rough from lack of use and dehydration. "I'm coming. I'm coming to you.”

With one arm around the radio, holding it tight against your chest, you turned to stand on shaky legs, gripping the railing with one arm and, with one final glance at the stars above you you smiled. You heard sirens in the distance, and some people shouting from a sparkling streamliner passing under the bridge. Time was running short, so you didn't wait to put first one foot over the fence, then the other, taking a deep breath.

"I guess doves were always meant to fly."

And, with that, your body twisted, turned and leaped, falling as the light on the radio, firmly pressed against your heart, began to glow in deepest crimson and swirls of green.

Falling like an angel would descend from grace.

Part 2 for closure

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angst #trigger warnings #minors d #minors don't look #minors dont touch #yes I'm crying #you're crying too #we all cry here #no judgement #quickf #quickfic

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moonstruckme · 7 months

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Hi! I am absolutely in love with your writing! The way you portray our boys is just *chefs kiss*

Anywho, I was wondering if I could request poly!marauders x plus size reader? Maybe she is very confident until somebody picks on her and she starts becoming obsessed with dieting and stuff. (I'm struggling a lot with that rn) just a bunch of worry and comfort from our boys.

If you don't feel comfortable writing this or just the prompt I gave it's okay. Ily!♡

Hi, thanks for requesting my love! I'm really sorry you're struggling right now, I know how hard it can be and hope you're doing your best to take good care of yourself. You're beautiful just as you are <33

cw: size insecurity, behavior that hints at disordered eating

poly!marauders x plus size!reader ♡ 1.2k words

The worst part is, you know they weren’t even really trying to insult you.

You smiled as best you could, said your thanks politely, and moved on. Moved on outwardly, that is. Inside, the words play over and over in your head, like a song on the radio that gets worse each time you listen to it. It wasn’t that they were vicious, or particularly clever, or even wrong. It’s just, you’re not used to people commenting on your body like that.

You know you’re not skinny. So does everyone else. Neither of you typically feel the need to confer about it. Every now and again, some cruel busybody will say something, but that’s fairly easy to brush off. They’re insecure about their own looks, they have nothing better to do than fixate on strangers’ appearances, they’ve probably been on diet pills since they were twelve. You wish them well and mostly forget about it. But what’s worse is when someone comes to you with good intentions. The idea of being perceived as pitiful or wrong—really, having your physical form perceived at all—by someone who seems to want the best for you is what really hurts. That’s what makes you want to hide, to shrink yourself down until they can’t see you anymore. To become the invisible status quo.

It’s why, over the last few days, anything skintight or remotely showy has been relegated to the back of your closet in favor of things that hide your figure. Why you’ve stopped drawing attention to yourself with colorful makeup and instead started focusing on your health. Well, your health as it presents itself externally.

“Anyone else fancy a dessert?” Sirius muses as you sit reading on the couch, Remus reading the next book in the series beside you.

“Um, no,” James says, holding up a hand of cards from the game he and Sirius have been playing, “you only want to go so you don’t have to stick around and lose.”

“Whatever my other, subconscious motives may be,” Sirius says guilelessly, “I really feel like something chocolate. Don’t you, Moons?”

That’s always a safe bet. Remus looks up from his book, intrigued. “I could go for some chocolate.”

Sirius grins. “What about you, gorgeous?”

That’s usually a safe bet too. But you shouldn’t. “Thanks, but I’m still full from dinner.”

Sirius looks cheated, and Remus cocks his head at you. “Really? Didn’t seem like you ate much.” He’s not wrong. Remus had made the most incredible feta pasta, it was borderline heartbreaking to leave any on your plate. But you’re trying to practice restraint, and thankfully, James had happily taken care of your leftovers for you. “Did you have a late lunch or something?”

“Mhm.”

James looks up, eyebrows furrow bemusedly behind his glasses. “No you didn’t, angel. You said you didn’t feel like lunch after we had breakfast together, remember?”

“Oh.” You nod. So what? You’d had a late breakfast, and a decently sized dinner, and why do you really need more than two meals anyway? Who made that rule? You’re a bit hungry, but your body just needs time to adjust to your new routine. It’s used to overindulging. And nothing about today means you deserve dessert. “Right.”

Sirius wraps his fingers delicately around your ankle, smoothing a path up your shin with his palm. “Darling,” he says, and he looks distracted as he runs his fingers over the old scars on your knee, but you know him well enough to recognize when he’s keyed in, “did you eat anything today, other than breakfast and that little bit of dinner? Any snacks or anything?”

You can’t help the little rush of pride that goes through you. “No.”

Sirius doesn’t look proud. In fact, he’s frowning, as are Remus and James. You change tactics. “I’m not really hungry, though.”

“No?” Sirius' voice is unsettlingly gentle. “Why don’t you want to have dessert tonight, pretty girl?”

“Because,” you say, beginning to feel defensive (though you’re not sure of what), “I don’t need it.”

“It’s not about need, though,” James says, and why is it beginning to feel like you’re in an argument? “It’s about what you want. Do you want a little something sweet?”

“I…” Yes. The answer is yes, but do you want it more than you want to feel good about yourself? “I think what I want more is to prove to myself that I can go without it.”

Remus’ scars shift as his face scrunches in concern. “Dove,” he says, and you can’t decide if his tone is more reprimand or pity. You don’t like either option. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’m just…I’m trying something new,” you decide. “I want to lose a little weight, okay? Nothing crazy.”

“But why?” James sets down his cards, looking completely befuddled. “Angel, you’re gorgeous. You can do whatever you want, but we love you just like you are.”

“And,” Sirius adds before you can reply, “we love you most when you’re happy. I sort of thought,” he says, lowering his voice like he’s telling you a secret, “that our late-night treat runs made you happy. No?”

“They do.” You pull your legs up onto the couch, away from Sirius’ touch. “I just…I think it would make me happy to be a more normal size, too.”

Remus looks gutted. “Honey, you…it’s your body, and you should do whatever feels right for you to be healthy, but…we love you like this,” he insists, ardent. “You’re beautiful, I mean it, and I hate the idea that you might want to change for…well, for anyone other than yourself.”

You hesitate. You’re not actually sure who you’re doing this for. When had you become one of the people who want for you to be smaller so desperately? “You seriously don’t think I would look better if I were thinner?” You’ve never been one to put much stock into what any men think of your appearance, so you feel silly for asking, but you’re in a vulnerable state. And really, don’t all guys want a girl that looks like the love interests in the movies you all grew up with?

James looks you in the eye, letting you see the earnestness in his as he says, “You’re absolutely lovely, right here, right now. We wouldn’t change a thing.”

Your answering smile is oddly watery. Remus makes an awfully lovely cooing sound, leaning over to wrap an arm around your waist and paying no mind to the chub there as he pulls you into his side. “Don’t be upset, darling. You know what I bet will cheer you up?” He smiles as you look up at him questioningly, kissing between your brows. “Some chocolate. How would you feel about that?”

You let out a quiet little laugh. “Pretty good.”

“Yes!” Sirius pumps his fist in the air, already abandoning his cards and standing up. “I knew you’d come through, gorgeous. Now I think the more pressing question is, do we want chocolate pastries or chocolate ice cream?”

“Ice cream, obviously,” James says. “Before it gets so cold out we don’t feel like it.”

“Not all of us suffer from weather constraints,” Sirius argues. “I vote pastry.”

“Why would you bring ice cream up if you didn’t want it? Think long and hard, Pads. Are you going to feel like a frozen dessert when you need three layers to go outside in a few weeks?”

Remus rolls his eyes at you as you follow them out the door, letting your boys continue their bickering all the way to the store.

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shawtuzi · 2 years

Note

Can you do something where plug!eren is fresh out of jail and is absolutely feral for his gf cause he hasn’t seen her in so long. Love u and ur writing :).

oh my god yes i most definitely can!!!! and thank u sm i love u more *kiss kiss*

this is 18+////cw include: black coded reader, unprotected sex, creampie, some mushy stuff at the end i couldn’t resist///wc: 1.5k+

let’s say eren did get busted and this is no beuno at all because everybody know most states be tripping over a simple weed charge. and unfortunately for this simple weed charge eren got sentenced three. fucking. years. to say it broke you was an understatement and what broke you even more is that eren didn’t expect you to wait on him. but you did of course because that is your man, your life, your cinnamon apple and he is worth waiting for.

eren stayed on his best behavior hoping to get out early for any reason they’d let him if he was the “model prisoner” and it paid off. eight months later a guard came up to eren and told him to get his affairs in order because he’d be leaving the next day. when eren told you the good news you couldn’t help but bust into tears. it was an extremely lonely eight months without him, yes your friends were around and kept you company but after spending months practically joined at the hip with eren it was very hard to adjust without him around :((

you showed up at the prison at exactly twelve sharp like eren instructed and five minutes later you finally saw him in all his glory. “eren!” you squealed running into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. “hi baby,” eren sighed dreamily nuzzling his face into your hair, the familiar smell of your coconut scented shampoo nearly bringing him to tears. “‘missed you so fuckin’ much jesus christ i’ll never leave you like that again i promise y/n,” he muttered squeezing your smaller form closer into his body. you couldn’t even speak afraid your voice will crack due to the happy tears streaming down your face. “missed you too eren it was so lonely without you,” you whimpered burying your face in his chest.

the two of you stayed like that for a good ten minutes, just embracing each other and whispering sweet nothings to calm the other down until you finally pulled away taking in eren’s figure. he’d gotten extremely fit, the white t-shirt he’d worn going in prison now nearly bursting at the seams from how swole his biceps had gotten. “you look good,” you trailed your finger down his arm making him give you his award winning smirk.

“yeah? how good?”

those three words were how you both ended up on the side of the rode, eren dragging you to the backseat so he could finally have his way with you after eight grueling months. “e-eren it’s only about twenty minutes till we’re…home,” your voice trailed off towards the end once you felt his lips on your neck. eren shook his head now yanking down your tank top to expose your breasts, “fuck no i waited eight months for this i’m not waiting a second longer, now lift up a sec so i can take these off” he rasped tugging at the waistband of your shorts. you immediately lifted your hips up bringing a loving smile to eren’s face, “still such a good listener huh? trained you real well didn’t i” he chuckled before pressing sloppy kisses all over your tits while also yanking your shorts off.

“yeah just for you eren all for you,” you whined tangling your fingers in his hair which was now slightly longer. “m’skipping the foreplay jus’ wanna fuck you right now,” he yanked down his sweats letting his dick spring free of its confinements. he was a lot bigger than you remembered. eren pressed a soft kiss to your cheek after seeing the slight fear in your eyes, “it’s okay i’ll be right here to take care of you when we’re done and if it really hurts too much just lemme know okay?” the softness in his tone had you feeling more relaxed already especially after hearing ‘i’ll be right here to take care of you.”

you were so lost in thought that he actually here in front of you you forgot to give him the ‘okay’ to continue. “y/n? you okay baby? do you want to stop?” eren was about to lift you off his lap but you quickly snapped back to reality (oh there goes gravity) shaking your head that you in fact didn’t want to stop. “no! no it’s okay i’m fine i’m just really happy to see you is all,” you smiled giving his lips one, two, three kisses before pulling your panties to the side, “now please fuck me….been waiting eight months for you rennie.” eren mumbled a quick “goddamn y/n” before rubbing his tip between your slicked folds before slowly pushing it in the both of you gasping in unison.

“s-shit okay i’m gonna go slow- fuck i don’t wanna cum too fast,” eren shuddered at the feeling of how warm you are, internally cursing at himself for already being at the brink of cumming. you brought your hands to his cheeks rubbing slow circles on them with your thumbs, “s’okay babe we have all the time in the world now, well kinda what we’re doing is pretty illegal and we should hur- oh shit!” you cried feeling all of eren’s dick enter you at once.

eren dug his fingers into your hips so hard you felt the bruises already forming but you didn’t care—what’s a couple bruises when you have the love of your life back in your arms? “goddamn y/n have you always been so tight?” eren grunted now moving you up and down at a steady pace, “and i don’t give a fuck about none of that that’s what we got tinted windows for,” you wanted to roll your eyes at his words knowing if it wasn’t so deserted where you were now you would’ve made him wait patiently. but it was so you could quite honestly care less about anything besides the man in front of you.

“eren,” you whimpered wrapping your arms around his neck. “i know baby i know i’m here just lemme make you feel good—that’s it there you go take this fucking dick,” he grunted taking one of your nipples into his mouth. eren began to grow impatient taking it upon himself to begin bucking his hips up, the tip of his dick now kissing your cervix in the most delicious way possible. your moans were like music to eren’s ears, each sharp gasp and little whimper you let out only fueling him to go harder and faster. “fuck fuck fuck i’m cumming s-shit,” eren growled slamming you down one last time before spurts of his warm cum began to fill your needy pussy.

you had never felt more comfortable and happy than you were now fucked out and stuffed with eren’s cum, “‘feels good…missed the way your cum feels in me ren” you sighed dreamily burying your face in his neck. “mhm ‘n i missed the way your pussy squeezes me so good, now i want us to cum together this time—think you can do that for me ma?” he ran his fingers gently up and down your back making shivers creep down your spine. you nodded quickly beginning to grind you hips slowly in his lap, the mixture of your wetness and his cum slowly trailing it’s way down his thighs and into the car seat.

“feel so damn good-shit i promise i’ll never leave you like that again y/n i swear. fuck i’ll stop dealing, get a job at the auto body shop connie told me about, get us a bigger ‘n better house and we can start a family yeah? give you a couple of my babies?” eren was completely fucked out babbling whatever came to his mind and he meant every single word. he didn’t care that he wouldn’t be making as much money all that mattered was you and you only. he didn’t care that he was only 23 talking about starting a family because he knew one day he would make you a mother to as many kids as you wanted.

a dopey smile made its way onto your face but you didn’t have time to savor the sweet moment your brain turning to mush when you felt eren’s thumb on your clit. “f-fuck eren yes that’s all i want with you please don’t stop!” eren didn’t plan on stopping either. he planted his feet more firmly before fucking into you with everything he had, “so fuckin’ wet” he muttered to himself, his head lolling back in pleasure. a few more harsh thrusts and soon you and eren were cumming at the same time, eren letting out the most pornographic moan you’ve ever heard. “shit—c’mere lemme hold you for a minute….missed being together like this,” eren wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you close.

you rested your head on his chest, the steady beat of his heart making it hard for you to keep your eyes open. “did you really mean what you said earlier, you know about getting a job at the shop and a new house and the other stuff?” your voice was strained and whisper like but eren caught every word. “and by other stuff you mean starting a family? yeah i did, i meant every damn word too,” eren chuckled pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “you cool with being the mother to my devil spawn?” he giggled giving your ass a playful slap.

“i’d be more than happy to eren <333”

#want him <\3 need him </3 #eren <3 #plug!eren #my writing #eren smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #attack on titan imagine #aot imagines #snk eren

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junowritings · 5 months

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hi there ! i love your writing! could i request floyd with reader who genuinely cant tell if someone is being platonic or romantic to them; maybe them finally realizing floyd's affections towards them aren't just platonic? ty!!

Oooh all I can say is my condolences to poor reader lmao. Had so much fun imagining how this would pan out this was a cute idea! I'm glad you enjoy my stuff - hope you enjoy~ 🧡

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♡ Oh, well this is going to be so much fun for Floyd.

♡ Floyd recognizes a crush when he sees one. You’re a good match - you keep him entertained, and have the uncanny knack to get him to actually do things he’d usually get too bored of and ditch at a moment’s notice (Azul’s been trying to figure out how you manage that with no success because you have no idea why he listens to you either). Not to mention all of those cute little quirks and things that you do which the eel just can’t get enough of.

♡ And of course there’s your reactions too. The way your lips quirk when you smile, the sound of your laugh and the noises of surprise you make when he swoops in when you’re least expecting him. The way that you squirm when he pulls you into those notorious squeezes of his, thankfully nowhere near as bone crushingly tight as the ones that he’s subjected some poor unfortunate souls to. Floyd adores getting any kind of response out of you.

♡ It is glaringly obvious that he’s interested in you, at least to everyone else, and Floyd’s got no problem making it known either. The only issue is that you haven’t noticed yet. It would get on his nerves a little knowing that you have no idea that his affection isn’t just platonic, but that quickly fades once he realizes how fun this has the potential of being. Just how far can he push that obviousness until you finally realize he’s interested in ya?

♡ It’s light teasing at first. Well, as light as it can be coming from a Leech twin. Floyd’s already naturally pretty casual with acts of intimacy, always throwing an arm over your shoulder or leaning up against you whenever he’s in the nearby vicinity. So why should you assume anything’s up when that arm on your shoulder squeezes you close against his side, and lingers a little longer than normal? Or that he's just a little bit clingier than usual, resting his head atop yours or on your shoulder and looping an arm or two around your side whenever you’re near each other?

♡ But then come the little gifts. Little things that have caught his eye and he doesn’t think twice about dropping into your hands the second that he sees you. Gifts from Floyd can really be anything, from things he’s found and borrowed but ‘forgot’ to give back, to things he’s gotten from trips back home and practically shoved into your hands the second he’s back. You start to question the reason behind his gifts, and start to notice other signs too.

♡ When you come to the Monstro lounge Floyd will take food from the kitchen and add them on as freebies whenever he feels like it. He doesn’t bother telling Azul or Jade, but they’re already well aware and aren’t entirely inclined to stop him since getting you to spend time at the lounge means Floyd’s a lot easier to manage.

♡ Gets upset if you share it with your other friends though - it’s for you, and he’ll say as much when he pushes the treat closer towards you, making sure to keep it out of your friend’s reach. Ace complained once about all the freebies you’re getting, trying to prod you to find out what you did to get the Leech twin in such a good mood and if he could convince you to get him in the eel’s good books, all the while trying to steal a bite from the free dessert you’re picking at with your fork. That is until he catches Floyd looking at him from at the bar; he’s grinning but there’s not a hint of the fondness like when he looks at you. The message is clear - hands off, and you’ve never seen Ace give up on stealing your food so fast in your life as he almost shoves the dish into your blazer pushing it back to you.

♡ You’ve always struggled to discern platonic from romantic feelings, not wanting to immediately assume one and get it wrong only to make things awkward afterwards. So even once you suspect that something’s up, it’s hard to work up the courage to actually approach it. You doubt Floyd would make things awkward if you were wrong, but you doubt your pride could handle the relentless poking and prodding he’d subject your feelings to if you were wrong about him liking you. Staying quiet about it and just enjoying these little moments seems like the safest bet, right?

♡ You made the mistake of asking his brother once, but that was no help at all. If anything it left you feeling even more confused because do you really think that Jade will break the surprise so soon? Floyd isn’t the only one getting a kick out of watching you struggle to put the pieces together, and Jade is thoroughly entertained learning how oblivious you can be to what Floyd’s actually trying to do. Those little gifts of his aren’t just for show - they’re telltale signs of a merfolk’s interest to date you. Oh dear, it really is such a shame that he forgot to mention that little tidbit to you, isn’t it?

♡ There is a point where things get serious. The moment that Floyd decides that he’s fed up toying around and running circles around these feelings. Gets a little miffed realizing that you still haven’t figured out that these little gestures aren’t just something he’s doing for the hell of it - sure, they’re entertaining, but his patience wavers quickly at the best of times. Eventually, Floyd’s going to get tired of this game. Playing games with you is fun, and he loooooves teasing his lil Shrimpy and watching your face turn into all different funny expressions while you try to figure out what exactly his angle is. But there are better things to play, and this back and forth is coming to an end sooner rather than later.

♡ Doesn’t care where it is or who’s around to notice, as soon as he sees you after deciding he’s done messing about you barely have enough time to greet him and ask what he’s doing before you are quite literally swept off of your feet with the force of his hug. His arms are tight around you as he hugs you close, and it’s just tight enough that you have a sinking feeling that he’s going to squeeze you like you’ve seen him do to the people who break Azul’s contracts. You’re trying to wrack your brain to figure out what perceived slight you did to earn the backbreaking squeeze you’re sure he’s about to give you, maybe even mentally leaving Grim all of Ramshackle’s tuna in your imaginary will. Then he stops, chin hooking over your shoulder and that one dark strand of his hair tickling your face as he presses his cheek against yours with

♡ “Hey, Shrimpy~ ya know, you got to be real dense to miss that I really like you. Maybe I gotta prove it~?”

♡ The whole time he’s saying this, Floyd is dangerously close to giving you a nibble or two. Your only saving grace is that he’s much too interested in the reaction that you give him once you realize what he’s said. His mismatched eyes rake in every detail; the way your eyes widen almost comically, mouth dropping open like a fish trying to sputter your way through some kind of response to what was basically a confession. It’s so funny! This is the reaction he’d been waiting for, and he’s not gonna relent until you really understand that this is way more than simply liking you.

♡ Let’s just hope you don’t mind the squeezes, because that’s not letting up either. Why would he let his shrimpy go when it’s better to just keep em right by his side? Especially when he wants to hear what you’ve got to say now that you don’t have to stress your silly little head over if he likes you or not~

#twst #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #floyd x reader #twst floyd #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland #twst x reader

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y0ur-loca1-lyr3 · 2 months

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A/N; I have been obsessed with husk lately so here we are lol

Husk falling in love/dating headcanons

Falling in love

Husk at first can’t really tell what the fuck he’s feeling

As much as he can read other people like a book, he can’t read himself whatsoever

So it’s needless to say there’s a lot of thoughts going through his head while he’s cleaning the glasses at the bar

Self reflection, self reflection, self reflection

Oh, and of course Alastor teasing Husk about it for sure

Honestly Alastor’s teasing nearly blew his cover

“Say, good fellow, weren’t you just yesterday talking about them?” Alastor said with a Cheshire smile, Husk stopping in his tracks and staring at Alastor with a glare. “Al. Don’t.” Husk warned, despite the fact he couldn’t do much. All the while you were staring confusedly at the two of them.

Despite all that he’s pretty perceptive, so he’d be able to gauge whether or not he’s safe to confess his feelings

He spends days trying to figure out the best way to confess

Should he give you flowers? Should he do something grand? Maybe confess at some restaurant?

Honestly he has no idea how to go about this

As he would say, he’s not all for that ‘touchy-feely bullshit’ he very much so is

When he does confess his feelings, he’s straightforward, or at least, tries to be

He doesn’t stutter over his words per say, but he does have a hard time figuring out how to word things

“I was wondering do you maybe, sorta wanna… go out for a drink or somethin’? Not that it has to be an alcoholic drink, we could go to a restaurant if you’re not too fond of drinkin’, and we don’t necessarily have to do a restaurant either, just-“ he sighs, “do you wanna go out with me or not?”

When you say yes, he’s baffled at first

He tries to hide his smile, but fails, and now he’s got a big goofy grin on his face the rest of his shift

Dating

Not much for PDA, but behind closed doors he’s very cuddly

Will pout if you guys can’t cuddle one night

When he does pout like that he’s all passive aggressive

When in public, he doesn’t do too much beyond holding hands

When watching movies, he’ll let you lean against him, and he’ll place his arm around you

He’s memorized your favorite cocktail

If he doesn’t have the stuff to make it, he’ll ask Charlie if they can get the stuff for it the next time they have to restock the bar

He’s not a big talker, but he’ll listen to you while he does his work, giving his input every once and a while

Compliment him and he’ll melt instantly

He can’t take a compliment for shit

Will deny any compliments at all times

Though maybe a kiss or two could convince him otherwise

He purrs

He most definitely purrs

Most of the time when you two are cuddling and he’s fast asleep

Mention it and he’ll deny it with a passion, swearing up and down that he doesn’t purr

Yes, he will come if you go ‘pspspspsps’

He will be annoyed after the fact though

Overall, sure he’s got a harsh exterior, but he’s a very soft and cuddly person to be with <3

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ramshackledtrickster · 3 months

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How you see Connor as a father/husband ?

So sorry for taking so long to get around to this ask (honestly I love this question so much and I wanted to draw like. 5 things for it but time is short on my end unfortunately so I’ll just be wordy about it instead— sorry there’s only two pics !)

As a father:

Ratonhnhaké:ton is trying his absolute best to be the best dad for his children as possible. He’s probably got some paranoia and brief nightmares about winding up like Haytham and becoming neglectful or absent, so he’s motivated to break that chain. Besides, Achilles and Oiá:ner and the rest of his village taught him well.

He looks to other more experienced parents for guidance, absolutely. On the homestead, Prudence and Warren and the whole lumberjack families would be more than happy to provide their own child rearing tips. Additionally, he refers to the more experienced figures in his wife’s village too.

Due to the assassin base being at the Davenport homestead, Ratonhnhaké:ton and his wife probably figured it best to divide their times growing up between the homestead and their mother’s village, getting a taste of the best of both worlds essentially while being convenient for both parents.

Connor and his love interest have two girls and a boy (Eldest son, middle daughter, and littlest daughter Io:nhiòte— all a few years apart). He does his best to give everyone their fair share of attention and treatment, and is good at hiding his own troubles when around them. But he loves nothing more than to spend time with them, and playing with them and making little crafts (some beadwork, husk dolls, wood carvings, doing his kids’ hair, etc etc, anything to keep those hands of his busy and to commemorate and keep his family happy).

He’s extremely patient and willing to listen, though when it comes to offering advice, he’d much rather do it with his wife beside him. He’s very protective of their kids, and very hesitant on if they decide to join the assassins in the future… he’s had nightmares about that prospect.

He takes a cue from Ziio, and keeps a few personalized books for practicing languages. Reading and spelling, both in English and Kanien’kéha. (In my headcanon, Ziio kept both a journal for herself to write in and a separate one for Ratonhnhaké:ton to learn English from, since she believed teaching him this earlier would protect him as they became further entangled with colonists). He follows in his mother’s footsteps of wanting to arm his children with knowledge to protect themselves, physically as well as with language and other street-smarts.

He and his wife greatly encourage clear and thorough (both in English and Kanien’kéha) and conflict resolution through those means. That’s a big rule within this family, to talk things through and nip issues at the bud, and to take responsibility.

When any of his kids are upset or sad, he encourages them to talk about what happened and why they feel this way. When words become too much, he’s more than willing to just hold and hug them while they cry against him. He doesn’t offer too many words, but he reassures that he’d be there for them, no matter what. He’s a very patient and present father, and he’d do anything to be the best father he could to his own children.

Also he lets his kids use him like a jungle gym. They’re climbing and clinging to him so much, and he doesn’t mind at all. He’s always wanted a family, and he couldn’t ask for any better one.

As a husband

Oh my god Ratonhnhaké:ton loves his wife so. So so much. He isn’t much for super gushy verbal affirmations but he lets it be known with how close he is with her physically, oftentimes hugging her and being much more outwardly affectionate.

He is very responsible for his share of the chores and responsibilities at home, for the home and for their family. And he likes to get stuff out of the way early so he can spend more quality time with his partner. Yeah He’s honestly a lot more physically and outwardly affectionate than most people would assume, cherishing every moment he can with her for fear of things cutting off too short due to events or reasons outside of his control. It’s not often someone in his line of work can have peace of mind, so whenever he can, he indulged in that.

His wife, while very much tied to the politics of her own village, has become a matriarchal figure among the assassin recruits due to her ties with Connor. He tries to keep her and the rest of her family safe, which means away from assassin business… which means they do spend some stretches of time apart, especially during more fraught times that would put them at danger. He hates being away from his family more than anything, but that encourages him to make up for lost time wherever he could.

He defers to his wife a LOT. Kids ask him for something they were already told no to, he’ll say “Ask your mother”. He always includes her in conversation and asks her for certain advice. In my hc, Connor marries into her village (same tribe, different clan), and has adapted well to them. Honestly, she’s the one in charge of most resources between em, both at the village and on the homestead (the world and politics of assassins is something she understandably rather would tiptoe around, that being more In Ratonhnhaké:ton’s wheelhouse). In addition, she helps him keep in touch w his culture after the events of ac3 and the move of his own village— which is beyond meaningful to him. The promise of a brighter future both for himself, the people he fights for, and her and their newfound are what drives him.

His wife encourages him to get out some more and interact/be more involved w community stuff. Also he nor the kids can get away with doing smth stupid when it comes to her bc ‘she always knows’. Nothing gets past her, and Ratonhnhaké:ton knows it (based off these little dialogues here from reflections issue 4)

Credit to her design and creation goes to @thou-babbling-brook !! It’s always a delight to draw her

But yeah we have always envisioned her to basically be a really nice compliment to Ratonhnhaké:ton, in design and demeanor and role. Needless to say, he’s a fantastic husband to her.

Sorry for the time it took to answer this, and the length of the post! Hope you enjoy it!

#assassins creed #assassins creed 3 #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway #io:nhiòte #connor’s mystery wife #my art #fanart

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cryptidcorners · 6 months

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Mike Schmidt x Reader Headcanons

= Character: Mike Schmidt

= Media: Movie!Five Nights At Freddie's

= Prompt: N/A

= Description: You and Mike had been dating for several months, which not many knew due to his wishes for privacy. Mike was a shy character, and you didn't expect to wake up in his arms now and then. You had known each other for years, and unlike your past partners, you finally found someone who truly understood you.

= Request: N/A

= Tags: Comfort, Fluff, Slight Angst? Romance, Headcanons, Established Relationship, just Sweet Stuff ! + Reader is Gender Neutral

= Warnings: Mentions of Childhood Trauma & Kidnapping, Mike is incredibly Stressed and Depressed From Work, Nightmares ! + FNAF Movie Spoilers

Despite his fluctuating work-life and raising his sister all on his own, he makes sure to engage with you as much as possible. While Mike can't afford to take you on dates, he spoils you at home and gives you the strongest hospitality anyone can offer. His highlights are hearing about your day, rambling about your interests. He barely thinks about talking about himself (let's be honest, you're all Mike thinks about).

He'd definitely not understand the lore you're fixated on sometimes, but he'll listen regardless.

Painfully shy around you. He gets nervous even asking you for a hug or kiss. Mike hesitates to hold your hand in public or share romantic gestures in fear you'll be disgusted by his lack of experience for affection. He's always delighted (and relieved) when you melt at the feel of his touch.

Cuddling! God, he loves it. His pills do help him sleep, but you help him relax. Mike prefers spooning you, his arms wrapped around your body is something magical, at least to him. He sleeps much better with you.

Anytime Mike flashes away from his nightmares, it helps him dramatically to wake up to you backed up against his chest. Sometimes he'd lazily wake up, desperate for some type of comfort. A lot of mornings were encouragement and warm hugs, which was more than another for both of you.

Mike is very clingy. Due to his trauma of Garett being kidnapped at a young age, he gets incredibly worried when you're gone for too long, especially if you're late.

So damn awkward when he's meeting and/or visiting people you know. Mike cannot socialize with anybody for the life of him. He doesn't bother telling you though. As long as you're enjoying yourself, he'll bare whatever is bothering him if it means seeing you this way.

Very protective. If he ever sees anybody making you uncomfortable (or if he even thinks so) Mike goes ballistic. Sometimes restoring to violence depending on how severe it is. He definitely feels bad afterwards, especially due to embarrassing you like that.

Will intentionally wear shirts/sweaters you like. Mike craves your validation, and loves the feeling of you complimenting him. (Give him a hug, please!) + Gets weak when you fix his tie or adjust his shirt collars.

Marking! Marking! Marking! (Giving + Receiving), I definitely see Mike giggling as he's kissing you or being kissed. His laugh is definitely infectious, and charming to see.

Loves it when you play with his hair, especially when you're cuddling. Slipping your fingers through his curls drives him crazy and makes him melt.

Mike definitely loves pet names, but I imagine he'd love your name much more. He holds it as stronger than any title ever. For him, personally he'd take whatever you call him, Mike is sweet like that.

You cannot tell me that you playing/interacting with Abby destroys his heart (in a good way). Seeing you as a parental figure to her makes him so happy, I bet he cries in joy thinking about it.

Sometimes he's so stressed from work to the point he'll fall into your arms for comfort in an attempt to channel his internal hardships.

Mike is definitely the sweetest kisser ever, not very experienced but he still gives you butterflies. Will hold you every time you kiss, making you feel secure every time. Even if it's a light peck, his hands will either be wrapped around your back, briefly caressing your sides or tight on your shoulders.

Speaking of kisses, he 100% gets lightheaded after them and giggles like a teenager after.

Uses his puppy-dog eyes a lot, even without realizing it.

Says "please" + "sorry" way too much. Absolute sweetheart.

Wears those goofy aprons when he cooks, he doesn't know you think it's cute/funny. Mike likes them way too much.

Hates public areas so much, prefers peaceful walks where it's quiet. Loud noises stresses him out.

Mike cannot tell sarcasm, info dumps or complicated jokes. He'd either just tilt his head in confusion or giggle in an attempt to make it look he understood.

Feels so guilty when you give him money or gifts and he can't repay it. Mike is a giver !

Such a comforter, he'll always listen to you vent, even if he's dead tired from his job. Bet Mike would hold you tightly, telling you everything will be okay.

Mike is pretty private about his feelings, especially his trauma. He's more focused on you on anything !

Loves you more than anything, would 100% run across a haunted pizzeria fatally injured for you in a heartbeat.

#💤 Mike Schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #headcanons #fnaf #fnaf x reader #writing #fnaf movie spoilers #writers on tumblr #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson

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