#i work at an alternative clothing store

[neurowaltz-archive]

𝖒𝖚𝖓 𝖛𝖘 𝖒𝖚𝖘𝖊

( i used a different picrew because the originally linked one didn’t have a top hat option & it was weird to see jervis without one sjkdfhkdhfs )

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 :  @elisethetraveller 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖌 :  everyone who sees this !

[drumlincountry]

EVERY fantasy book EVERY scifi novel every starwars movie every post apocalyptic show. I ask, WTF??? The same same question EVERY time. Say it with me - WHERE’S THE FARMING?

[emoangel44]

i just went 2 da thrift and found NOTHING -_-

[allurilove]

Teenager Yandere Husband x teenager you

“What would happen if you went to the same school as him?”

Rated 16 + — regular ol’ short content !

Teen!Yandere Husband had a major scene phase starting sophomore year. It was his way of saying ‘fuck you’ to his old man, and he started to grow as his own person. He was finally able to express himself in a way his father tried to repress. His father was interested in fashion, creating multiple pieces and clothing that had made it to the runways, but he made sure teen!yandere husband looked proper. Not dressing him in the eccentric and world stopping outfits his father was known for, but the cookie cutter boy you see in those movies about snobby rich people. His dad thought his new bright hair was hideous, and when he started to cut up holes in his jeans— he got a whooping that night. That didn’t stop teen!yandere husband, it only fueled him to go all out. He had black eyeliner on his waterline, multiple rhinestone belts on his hips, and wore long striped socks with his boots. He donated all of his old polo shirts, cream white sweaters, and traded his name brand shoes for a pair of converses.

Teen!Yandere Husband enjoyed listening to My Chemical Romance, 3OH!3, and Get Scared. He had all of their latest music downloaded onto his mp3 player, and he listened to it with his girlfriend at the time. They both shared an earbud, and his arm was around her shoulders. She was just the type of girl he liked: she had those skunk extensions in her hair, long eyelashes, fishnets on her arms, and she smelled like a record store (idk if that’s a compliment). But alas, all mildly good things came to an end when he was broken up with. She wanted an alternative man by her side, and he wasn’t enough for her.

Teen!Yandere Husband started to grow out his hair junior year. He had to constantly brush his bangs out of his face, blowing at the strands whenever they poked at his eyes. He was this tall six foot two guy, bumping into people in the hallways with his wide shoulders. And he had an attitude. He didn’t apologize, just grunting out a ‘watch it’ before he stomped his way to his class. Teen!yandere husband also picked fights with anyone that tried to comment on his appearance. He knew how to throw a mean punch, and he learned it all from his great aunt. Breaking peoples noses and fingers were easier than he thought, and getting away with it was just as sweet than the thrill he felt. His father made constant excuses for teen!yandere husband, saying that it was just a phase and he was just a boy, and if that didn’t work… well a gracious donation would be sent to the school.

Teen!Yandere Husband got his dick pierced the summer before senior year. It was a risky move, his father was already on the brink of snapping at him and kicking him to the curb. But, thankfully his aunt was cool about it, and signed the paperwork. While he was at it, he got his ears and belly button done too.

Teen!Yandere Husband noticed you around senior year. He was cleaning up his ‘bad boy’ act, trying to get on people’s good side before the year ended. While he was on his apology tour, he saw you sitting at the library alone. He doesn’t remember if he had done anything horrible to you, and if he did, he would absolutely beat himself up for it. He was about to approach you, but then he suddenly remembered his appearance, and was self conscious about the way he looked. Who would love to be with a mess of a man like him? Surely, you already had people lining up to be with you.

Teen!Yandere Husband made his first move by asking you to sign his yearbook. You had made him nervous. Just your presence alone was making him sweat. He held brief eye contact with you when he asked, leaning against the white bricked wall with a blush to his cheeks. His voice soft and yet baritone, and he held up the yearbook for you to write your name in.

“Ah yeah… I think we had like one class together? With that really grumpy man that’s about to retire soon.”

You smiled, a little snort coming from you. He watched you add a little heart into your name. “You’re gonna have to be specific. That’s like half the teachers here.”

“You know,” he was totally talking out of his ass, “the teach that shakes his fist whenever he sees teens running down the halls.”

“Really? That’s odd. I never had a male teacher.”

“W-What? Oh-“ he gulped, adverting his eyes towards the ground. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and he awkwardly shifted between his weight. “Maybe I’m misremembering things.”

“If we took a class together… I definitely would have remembered.”

That left him speechless. Did you mean that in a good way?

“You’re sort of hard to forget… you kind of look like Sam Monroe from Life as a House.” you bit your lip, and your eyes took in the sight of his dark but colorful clothing. He had this scent that made him smell like fresh rain and wood.

He hadn’t seen that movie, but he was gonna guess on a whim that might’ve been your way of saying he’s … cute?

Teen!Yandere Husband got your number and followed you around all summer. He was actually shy when he got to hang out with you outside of school. Hours before he met you, he walked back and forth in front of his mirror, trying to give himself a pep talk before the hangout. He wasn’t this nervous before, and he started to fret about his appearance. He had put on his best jeans, clean shoes, and the classic sort of fancy tee. He picked you up in his red corvette, playing music from the radio incase you didn’t like what he usually listened to. He was determined to make this “hang out that’s totally not a date” perfect.

Teen!Yandere Husband casually paid for your things, and opened all the doors for you. He totally thought he was winning in the ‘gentleman’ department. He gave you compliments that teetered between the lines of flirtation, and just being friendly. He actively listened to whatever you had told him, making mental notes to bring them up in later conversations. That seemed to make you happy. You two had stopped by a carnival he coincidentally had tickets for. He tried his hardest to help you at any game, and he was pretty good at throwing darts. He happily smiled for whatever photo booth you brought him into, not once complaining when you wanted to use props.

Teen!Yandere Husband had genuinely smiled whenever he was around you. You just made life better. You were his little comedian, his best friend that’ll he never forget.

Full fics: these fics are an aged up version of yandere husband obvs, and it contains smut.

#1 #2 #3 #4 (coming soon)

Allure: this would be soo him if he were to text reader.

[weyesbloodgf]

seeing a movie in a theater that is empty but for you and two old people is truly the closest thing we have to a cure for the human condition

[aplpaca]

On one hand plastic fiber is bad for the environment and its production should be regulated imo but also like the way most of the posts talking about the issue are framed is really tiring and doen't sit super well with me bc theyre all "these fabrics are horrible and feel bad and we should only ever use natural fibers and nothing else and in a better society polyester wouldn't exist."

but like. I'm autistic and my main sensory issues are with touch and texture. I can't wear like 98% of clothes sold in stores bc the styles and fabrics set off my sensory issues and make me feel like I have to rip my skin off and break my skull against a wall. And a solid 75-90% of what I'm actually able to wear is polyester bc of how it stretches (for reference, polyester clothing is about 50-60% of the market). Pretty much everything I can wear that's not a generic cotton t shirt is largely polyester, and I have not found any natural fibers that are wearable for me without also incorporating polyester. Like I can honestly make an argument that access to polyester clothing is an accessibility issue for me. And there's no way I'm the only person this applies to.

So like. the framing of "and it's such a shitty bad-feeling fabric" as a reason to limit its use is just. literally not true for a lot of people (even those who don't have sensory issues. If no one thought it was comfortable, it wouldn't sell, my man). and also completely irrelevant to the actually important environmental issues.

also like. With addressing the environmental issues of polyester and other synthetic fibers, it should also come with consideration of like, either finding an environmentally friendly alternative that's *actually* a valid alternative in terms of texture, stretch/behavior, and utility. or, in the absence of an alternative, finding a way to reduce the production of and reliance on polyester without making it impossible for those who can't tolerate other options to find clothing that works for them and doesn't make them feel like they're physically combusting

And "polyester bad shitty fabric and I hate it i love you linen uwu" does neither of those things (also I fucking hate you linen). like. If I could wear 100% natural fiber pants, I would. But I literally can't do that without having a meltdown. So until that issue is addressed, the "just wear natural fibers"/"we need to only use natural fibers" type of clothing sustainability campaigning unfortunately isn't accessible to me and others with similar issues

[cherryredstars]

hello cherry!!

I really love your work, and I was wondering if you could do a second part of Miguel being CEO (In the job description)

I'm very sorry if I don't express myself well, English is not my first language

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, Smut with Some Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Use of Vibrators, Penetrative Sex, Mirror Sex, Slight Slapping

Summary: Don’t accept gifts from your boss…or wear it. 

A/N: I made an alternate version of this (basically part 1.5), so let me know if you guys want me to post that one!

Word Count: 3K (Not Edited)

Reverse AU Part 1 Part 1.5

It was extremely unprofessional.

That’s what you thought when Miguel passed by your desk the morning after your little… moment in his office. He gave you a fleeting smirk as he placed a medium-sized black box right in front of you. A deep blush spread across your face, unable to meet his eyes while he stared at you for a few minutes before walking away and shutting the door to his office. An uneasy feeling filled your stomach as you watched the door before sliding your eyes over the box.

It was the type of box someone would get clothes in for Christmas, only pricer and better quality. A pretty silk ribbon held the lid and bottom together, in a matching matte black color. Carefully, you pulled at one of the ends, the bow easily unraveling. When you took the ribbon off, a deeper blush spread over your body as you saw the words engraved into the cardboard. 

Stamped on the box was the name of the popular lingerie store in the shopping district. It was a store you passed by daily on your way to and from work, and a store that was most definitely out of your price range even with the gracious salary you had. Your hands instantly slapped over the words, leaning over your desk to see if anyone was coming or if Miguel was making any move to leave his office. When the coast was clear, you hesitantly sat back down. 

You cleared your throat nervously, staring at the box before giving into your curiosity. As gently as possible, you lifted the lid of the box, face slightly hiding behind it to obscure your view. An exhale leaves you as maroon tissue paper covers whatever is inside. You take another deep breath before leaning forward and lifting one flap of the tissue paper. A surprised gasp leaves you, staring at the 3 pairs of lacy underwear in the box. 

Each panty is made from lacy material, making them slightly see-through. When you run your hands over them, they’re delicate to the touch and you can tell its high quality stuff. Each one is a different color. The first is a set of white panties to replace the ones from yesterday that Miguel claims to have no idea about. The second one, a deep navy blue that is fairly similar to the navy blue of Miguel’s favorite designer suits. And lastly, a blush color that rivals the one across your cheeks. 

You’re so caught up in just marveling at the contents of the package, that you don’t realize Miguel is standing in front of your desk until he starts speaking. “I take it you like them?”

You’re instantly jolted and clumsily try to cover up the panties and close the box. You’re sure if someone saw your face, it would be a damn near perfect color match to one of those pairs of panties. You shyly look up at Miguel clearing your throat and leaning back in your chair to create more distance between the two of you. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A lazy smirk spreads against Miguel’s face before he shakes his head in amusement. “I was calling you into my office, but you didn’t seem to hear the buzzer.” He hums, eyes trained on the black box he gifted you. You can tell he’s tempted to say something by the way his mouth straightens and his brows furrow slightly, but he ends up not commenting on it and continues what he was saying before. “I was going to tell you that the charity fundraiser is this weekend, and we have to attend to meet the new potential merger.” 

His words make you want to grab the box on your desk and slam it against your head a few trillion times. It’s no secret that both you and Miguel hate the monthly fundraisers. Okay, that sounds bad. Both you and Miguel are happy that somewhere over a hundred grand gets donated to great charities, it’s just the whole business aspect of it you hate. Having to sit around with smiles that are so fake that they cause the muscles of your cheeks to ache, listening to some old CEO who is in dire need to retire spew on and on about very old fashioned beliefs, and the undercooked batches of pasta they serve at the venues are barely anything to gush about. 

Miguel can sense the discontent rolling off of you in waves, an apologetic sigh leaving his lips. “Do you need a dress or shoes? It’s the Unique charity this year, black-tie event as per usual.”

A heavy sigh leaves you and your finger traces the edge of the box. You mentally go through your closet, trying to remember if you have any appropriate dresses that you haven’t worn in previous years. You come up blank, an oncoming migraine forming at your temple. “I’ll figure something out.”

Miguel gives a displeased hum, knocking his fists against your desk. He leans away, fixing the sleeves of his button up and ruffling his hair. “No worries, I’ll have LYLA send you authorization for my business card and a few dress and shoes options.”

You’re about to protest, but the sound of his phone ringing interrupts you. Miguel rolls his eyes as he sees the contact, answering it and turning away as he grumbles out a greeting. He walks towards his office and turns to give you one last nod before entering. A deep sigh leaves you and you close your eyes as you lean back into your chair. You squint one eye open, eyeing the box before stuffing it in your bag with a huff.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵

“Oh god, oh god, oh god!” 

You run around your small apartment, nothing but a towel covering your body. Your hair is the only thing done, going for an easy blow drying and curling. You groan when you see the pile of laundry in your room, rummaging in your panty drawer to find nothing but a few that are in desperate need to be thrown away due to their worn out state. You’re on the verge of crying when you see the black box thrown carelessly on top of your other drawer. 

You bite your lip, nerves swallowing your being. You weren’t ever planning to wear them, I mean they’re from your boss for god’s sake! But really, you have no choice. With an annoyed groan and exhale, you grab the box and grab the navy blue pair, the color matching the color of your dress. You hastily slip them on, rushing back and forth between your bathroom and your bedroom to do your makeup and get dressed. 

By the time you finish the struggle of zipping up your dress, your phone rings with Miguel’s number. You grab your phone and your purse, answering as you slip on your heels. Miguel’s gruff voice echos as you press the speaker option and unlock your door. He grumbles that the driver is outside your house and you hum in acknowledgement as you check your bag for everything you need as you shut the door behind you after locking it. You rush down the hall and into the elevator, tapping your foot impatiently as you wait to reach the ground floor. 

Once the doors slide open, you’re speed walking to the exit and instantly spotting the sleek black car right against the curb. Miguel stands by the car door, a loud ping ringing from his phone that causes his brows to furrow. He looks up at the sound of your heels, that furrowed look still on his face as he eyes you up and down. You copy his facial expression, asking him what’s wrong. He only looks back down at his phone, dismissing whatever it was and opening the car door for you.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵

You have no idea how you got here. 

The second you and Miguel entered the venue, the both of you had down a flute of champagne and gone through the agonizingly long process of greeting every current and future business partner that was present. Everything was going fine, your fake smile was yet to ache and the desserts looked promising. That was until, of course, a sharp zap ran up your spine as you felt something vibrating against you. 

You had choked on your words, trying to play it off with an abrupt sip of alcohol and a strained laugh as you conversed with some of Miguel’s business partners while he dismissed himself for a quick run to the bar. It had been sudden, maybe a trick played on you by your own mind, until it started again. But this time, it was more intense. You had hurriedly excused yourself, making up some excuse before dashing towards the bathroom. 

You rushed through the door, sighing in relief when no one else was inside. You hurried to the counter of sinks, leaning your elbows on the surface as you bent over and hissed. The vibration, that was most definitely coming from your fucking panties, just seemed to be more intense as you shifted from leg to leg and clenched your thighs to relieve the feeling. A struggling whimper left you as you lifted your head to look into the mirror, jumping when you see Miguel leaned against a bathroom stall and staring at you. You must not have heard him enter through the foggy mess in your head. 

You instantly snap up, legs crossed as you turn around and clutch the edge of the counter tightly. You open your mouth, about to scold Miguel for being in the women’s bathroom, but another desperate whine leaves you as the vibration around your clit focuses on the perfect spot from your new stance. Miguel’s brow raises as his eyes ghost down your form, catching the way sweat begins to break on your hairline. A lazy smirk crosses his face when he pulls out his phone from his dress pants, tapping around it a few times before you slouch. 

A sense of relief fills you as the strong vibrating stops and your clit is given a break. A heavy sigh leaves you, head tilting down before the realization hits you. Your head instantly snaps up, your wide eyes meeting Miguel’s mischievous ones. Of course. What else would he do but give you fucking vibrating panties. Your eyes trail down to his phone, watching as he taps it with his thumb again and suddenly the vibration is back. Your body tenses up again, and you watch helplessly as Miguel walks over to you. 

He presses his hand into the front of your dress, directly over your panties. The pressure of his hand makes the vibration stronger, and a choked gasp leaves you. Miguel hums, feeling the strong vibrations through your dress, his eyes moving to your face. “I didn’t think you’d ever wear ‘em.”

That makes two of us, You think as your eyes squint into a glare, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent a noise threatening to spill out. Your hands come up to hold onto Miguel’s wrist, trying weakly to take his hand away. He only chuckles, pressing his hand harder against you before taking it away. Your hands fall from him, insead returning to grip on the counter when he turns you around quickly. A wave of deja vu hits you when he presses down on your lower back so your chest is fully pressed, his hands hurriedly gathering your dress so the surplus of fabric bunches around your waist. 

His hand skims the center of your underwear, two fingers pressing against your clothed clit. A moan leaves you as the vibrations grow stronger under his fingers, your hips squirming to get away. Miguel’s hand tightens around your waist, making it harder for you to move. He watches you from the mirror, enjoying the concentrated and tortured look on your face. 

“You know,” Miguel starts lazily, fingers starting to draw slow circles on your clit, “You never answered my question before.” A loud gasp leaves you and you hiss out his name after his hand comes to give your clit a firm slap. “Do you like my gift?”

A weak sound leaves you as you bite your lip. Your hips try to press into Miguel’s hand when he starts his slow circles again, crying out when he removes his hand completely. You hear the rustling of a belt buckle and pants, your gasp in sync with the hiss Miguel lets out when he presses the head of his cock into your panties. The vibrations play against his head, his hand holding his base as he rubs himself up and down the length of your panties. His eyes flutter shut, mouth dropping open in a silent moan as he enjoys the feel of your increasingly wet panties and the vibrating. 

His hand pushes your panties to the side, his cock falling forward to poke at your glistening entrance. Even though the vibrating panties aren’t directly over your clit, you can still feel them from their place right besides it. Your own eyes flutter shut, moaning at the feel before Miguel’s hand grasps your face from behind. His large hand squishes your cheeks together and your eyes flutter open to see his face right besides yours in the mirror. Both Miguel’s and your eyes meet in the mirror, his demanding while yours are hazy. 

His tip slightly slides into you and you groan. Miguel’s hold tightens on your face when he pulls out. “Answer the question, preciosa.”

A weak nod leaves you, a puff of air escaping your nose as you lean your hips back to grind slightly against Miguel’s cock. A strangled grunt leaves him and His eyes fall down to where you’re grinding before looking back at you. His breath is hot against your cheek, causing shivers down your spine. “Don’t look away. Just watch.”

Without warning, he slams into you. A loud scream leaves you, eyes threatening to roll back as you watch him. His eyes are dark and focused on where he thrusts brutally into you, your body sliding closer to the mirror before he pulls you back towards him. You make a weak attempt to talk, stuttering out something about the door before he grunts and replies it’s locked. It does little to conceal your worries. As if sensing it, Miguel’s hand slides up to your mouth to cover it, muffling the noises you’re letting out. 

The only sounds that can’t be muffled are the soft, wet sounds that come from his heavy balls hitting against your wet heat. You’re so wet that you’re coating him, a stickiness connecting his balls to your cunt as he thrusts. Your eyes roll back and a harsh slap is thrown against your cheek. Unfocused eyes meet Miguel’s angered ones, his thrusts turning harsher and more punishing as he looks at you disapprovingly.

“I told you to watch. Keep your eyes on the mirror or I'll stop.”

A sound of protest leaves you, mumbling out sorry repeatedly as you try to keep your eyes focused on the mirror. The view is shaking from the way your body jolts with each pump of his hips, but he doesn’t seem to care. If anything, it makes him go faster and try to see how shaky he can make your vision and your legs. His hand gives you one more smack to the cheek before covering your mouth again. 

Your legs feel like they’re about to give out and that hotness is forming at the bottom of your stomach. Miguel’s is fast approaching too, the sensation of your tight, warm walls sucking him in and the slight vibrations running through your walls from the vibrating panties. His hand leaves your hip, moving in between your legs and moving the shaking fabric back over your clit. The angle is awkward, trying to find it under layers of falling fabric from your dress while he’s hammering his cock into you. But eventually he gets it, and you instantly fall apart. 

Your scream is muffled by Migue’s hand, your body shaking as you clench tightly around him and gush all over his cock. Miguel lets out a curse, his thrusts stuttering and becoming clumsy. You call out his name weakly, and he’s gone. He stills with a deep groan, filling you up with his warmth. You both stand there for a moment, basking in the aftershocks of pleasure before you start suffering from overstimulation from the still vibrating underwear. 

You weakly cry out to Miguel, who hurriedly turns on his phone and kills the vibrating. A deep, grateful sigh leaves you as you slump forward. A small moan leaves you when Miguel pulls out, reaching up to the tissue paper dispensers to wipe you and him down. He rebuckles his pants, pulling your panties back in place and your dress down. You flinch when the drenched fabric meets you, half expecting for it to start vibrating again. Instead, another piece of paper tissue is dabbed against your face and neck as Miguel tries to rid your skin of sweat without fully removing your makeup. 

A grateful noise leaves you before you stand up when Miguel steps back. When you turn your head towards him, a soft kiss is pressed to your cheek. Miguel strokes the spot with his thumb, eyes trailing to yours before he looks away and moves towards the door. 

“Not going to steal my panties this time?” You can’t help but call out, hands still gripping the edge of the sinks tightly.

Miguel turns with a teasing smile and shrugs. “Nah, you can keep them this time. Just make sure to wear one of the other pairs to work on Monday.”

A deep flush flows across your face at his innuendo, watching as he unlocks the door and slips out. A deep sigh leaves you as you turn towards the mirror again, an annoyed noise leaving you as you spot imperfections in your makeup. You open your bag, working on small touch-ups as you think back to what occurred a few minutes ago. A small smile crosses your face and you shake your head before you head to follow Miguel back out for another hour of socializing.

Just benefits of the job.

Join the Taglist!

[babygorewhore]

I’ll follow you until you love me.

The moment Eddie Munson saw you, he thought you were perfect and once he finds your social media, it gives him insight into your world. But he can’t get enough of you. Eddie can’t stop himself from acting on his desire to follow you. Eddie is determined to make you his. But maybe he’s not as subtle as he thinks.

This is my installment of a shared universe with a mutual. Who will be writing her installment of this universe soon.

Warnings! Smut! 18plus only! Stalker! Eddie. Obsession. Oral! Fem recieving! Unprotected PnV! Fem reader is alternative/goth in this. Eddie is a Bartender. I’m sick and I edited once so if you saw mistakes ignore them.

Eddie knew he was breaking some sort of code. But he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. He was…addicted. You weren’t even friends. Friendly at best. He knew you for only a couple of weeks. Your parents owned his favorite music store and he was sorting through the collection of Black Sabbath CDs when he saw you for the first time in the same aisle.

He immediately fell for you. Everything about you was perfect. Your body. Your face. Your clothes. Your voice. Eddie was completely mesmerized when you both had a conversation about why CDs were essential to the music listening experience. It took everything in him not to kiss you and ruin your pretty lipstick.

As soon as he was alone in his van, he yanked out his phone. Typed in your name and hunted for any sign of accounts you had. He didn’t even use his social media but you would be the exception. You were everything. After several minutes, he finally found your pretty picture. He sighed and leaned back in the seat.

It was your instagram. And in your bio you listed your tik tok, twitter and even your Facebook. Jackpot. Eddie’s eyes scanned over your uploads, his breathing getting heavier. It was almost as if he had a taste of your life. Your world.

The whole week in between his shift at work and when he came home, he devoured everything you posted. He watched every video you reposted, he needed to know your humor, your likes, your dislikes. He couldn’t tear himself away from looking at you.

One night, you posted your work schedule for the next week at the music store. And that’s when he decided he needed to see you again.

His shift ended at the Hawkins bar two hours after he originally planned because some fuckwad didn’t know how to show up on time. The music store would only be open for another hour so he raced to his van and probably broke three laws speeding to the building.

He speedily parked, exited and practiced in his head what he would say. He needs a copy of the band you liked Bad Omens. You posted about them all the time. Eddie needed the physical copy. Something you both talked about so it wouldn’t be weird if he asked for a disc. He inhaled and pushed open the door, glancing around as the bell rung. A collection of people were here, he tried to keep his cool. The CDS. His hair was tied into a bun and he wore all black just like you always did. He shook his head and confidently strides to the shelves.

It was different. More organized. All the decades were correct. Everything was straightened. You had the magic touch. Eddie smiled when his fingers grazed over the plastic, you had touched these. He saw Bad omens right away, but he came here for help. He purposely took a step back and wore a confused expression.

“Eddie?” There. There you were. His cock twitched. Goosebumps rose on his skin. He didn’t turn right away, no. You wouldn’t get it that easy. As badly as he wanted to turn around and-

Your hand gently grazed his shoulder. He wanted to rip off his leather jacket to feel your fingers on his bare skin and his breath shuddered. Finally, he shifted in your direction. Eddie almost kissed you. He had to plant his feet heavily on the floor to prevent himself. Your eyes were soft, searching his brown irises. Small crinkles around your brows showed hours of work but your mouth was curved into a polite, curious smile. You wore all black, a bad omens shirt, leggings and boots. A small name tag was right above your heart. You looked perfect. But he focused on your lipstick, the same you wore that first day. He wanted to smear your makeup. Make it run down your face while you were on your knees. He wanted to grip your hair and guide you through-

“It is Eddie, right? Don’t tell me I forgot.” He jerked his head.

“Yes. It’s Eddie. I’m glad you’re here. I’m in serious need of a music recommendation,” Eddie internally melted when you flashed him a grin.

“Well, I’m happy to assist you. I’m assuming you want this in the form of a CD?” You gave him a knowing look.

He clapped his hands. “ You remembered that. Yes. Always.” You giggled and you extended your hand towards the collection of CDs on the shelves.

“What sound are you looking for? I know you like metal. But do you want a classic recommendation, something underrated or unknown?” You sounded so considerate. You were doing your job, he knew that. But he clung to whatever interest you gave him.

“Honestly, what are you listening too? I want something different. You can only listen to so much Metallica and Black Sabbath,” Eddie dramatically pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

You nodded in kind. “Your secret is safe with me. But I can’t believe you’re actually asking for my opinion.”

“Why? I mean, I’d assume someone who shares my appreciation for metal has great taste.” He saw you from the corner of his eye, you dip your head down for a second. He needed to pace this conversation, withhold what he knows. He just needs to keep hearing your voice. He was almost trembling from the way you were accepting his attempts at charm.

“I mean-If I’m being honest. My favorite band is Bad Omens.” Eddie raised his eyebrows and nodded towards your shirt. His shoulders relaxed. Finally. This was how it went in his head.

“I haven’t listened to them. I’ve seen them on tik tok, but I just haven’t dived in.” He hoped you believed his lie.

“Excuse me?” You both turned and a older man stood at the entrance. Wearing a guns and roses shirt and light blue jeans. “I need help.”

Eddie’s chest burned. No, no, no. He just got you talking. You face him with a shadow of disappointment dancing across your features. He wanted to scream at the man but he had to stay calm. He couldn’t risk you seeing him differently. You didn’t hardly know him.

Yet.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. Gotta help him. But the CD is right there, and if you ring the bell someone will check you out. It was nice seeing you! I hope you like it!”

He was struggling to bury his anger even long after he paid for the album and made his way home. Eddie paced his room. You. You were so beautiful. So sweet. He wanted to keep listening to you talk. He wanted to know every single band you loved. He wanted-no, he needed more of you. He dug his phone out of his pocket.

Settling on his bed, knees spread apart, his thump quickly found your profile. You had so many followers. So many people watching, commenting and sharing with you online. He clenched his jaw when he looked at your story. Eddie blinked at the loud music attached. You had a closed lipped smile and your eyes were shut. And the caption talked about how much you hated rude customers. But then he recognized the song. It was Bad Omens.

He chewed his bottom lip. Was that because of him? Were you thinking about him? The same way he thought of you? He turned up the volume. Listened carefully. Was this song on the album he bought? He picked up the bag and yanked out the plastic, reading the song list on the back . Yes. It was. Eddie pressed the CD against his chest. You touched it. He brought it higher, over his chin until his lips pressed against it. He held it against his mouth, while he stared at your photo.

Eddie had memorized your work schedule. Maybe he could stop by again tomorrow. Fuck, he couldn’t. He had to work and It was too soon. You would be confused.

He couldn’t fit anymore CDs on his shelf but he would fucking build a new one if that meant he could buy more from you.

The next day he was in his car. Parked across the street with a few cars giving distance from the music store. He didn’t plan it. He was going into work in a hour. But He just needed to see you. Just look at you. That’s it. A death of Peace of mind album was playing in his van and his jaw was clenching so hard from waiting for you to step out. He had fell asleep with his phone on his chest from frantically scrolling on your profile last night.

He didn’t know how his resolution disappeared so quickly. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how sweet you were. How quickly his conversation with you ended. He couldn’t stand it. He needed more. Eddie’s breathing shortened when the entrance opened and you stepped out. You adjusted your bag, shuffled to close the door behind you and cast your search around the direction of the street.

He gripped the steering wheel, so hard his hands trembled as you moved aside for a stranger. You smiled brightly then you started to walk in the opposite direction. His eyes trailed down your body. Black jeans, black hoodie and converse. They lingered on the curve of your thighs in those pants. But he frowned. Were you walking home? You didn’t have a car?

Without a second thought, he turned the keys. In the back of his mind, he knew he was going overboard. He had work. He needed to leave. Soon. But god damn he just needed to make sure you got home safe. His van came alive and he maneuvered onto the street. There was a stop light coming, and he sped up to try and beat it before it turned red. He didn’t know how he would remain invisible as he followed you, but he had to try.

Eddie wasn’t sure how he managed, but you didn’t turn to see his van. Your apartment wasn’t far from the store thank fuck. He settled across the street, behind two cars. The same tactic he used earlier. You jogged up the driveway, where there wasnt a car. His suspicions confirmed. The complex wasn’t big, it looked similar to his own.

He glanced at the clock. He needed to get going. He hated being late. But your address was seared into his mind. He would never forget it. Eddie pulled out his phone, frantically clicking on your instagram. You had a new story. You were smiling, an adorable grin and your fingers were held in a peace sign. The caption said you were finally home. He wanted to help you relax. Spread your legs and make you see stars and never think about a stressful day again.

His dick was growing hard as he imagined your sweet face. Covered in his cum. Your eyeliner running down your cheeks. His hand ghosted the center of his pants before he stopped.

No. No he wouldn’t touch himself. He needed you. He needed to cum inside you. You deserved better than him jerking off in his car before he had the privilege of being with you. Eddie exhaled, forcing himself to drive.

The night shift was always packed. Plus as the manager, he was responsible for training and handling reckless drinkers. His hair was tied up, his usual style for his shift and his sleeves were rolled up, muscles flexing as he slid a glass to a guest. But his mind was a whirlwind. He hadn’t been able to check his phone. What were you doing? Were you relaxing? He was buzzing with energy. He hadn’t even told Steve about you yet, who apparently was busy with his own infatuation. Eddie kept looking at the clock. He had to stay over again but closing was coming soon. Halloween was in just a few days. What were you going to do? Dress up? Go to a party? Fuck, he needed to know.

He had fucking fell asleep before he had a chance to look at your instagram when he got home well after 3am. He crashed on his couch, still wearing his work clothes with his phone in his pocket where it died. Eddie practically shoved the end of the charger into his phone, his leg bouncing from waiting for it to turn back on. He knew he should have charged it. Now, it would take longer to see you.

He wanted to touch himself as he imagined your lips wrapped around him, choking on his dick as his hand is gripping your hair. His hand even drifted to his crotch until he stopped himself. No, he promised himself he wouldn’t cum until it was inside you. You were his. He checked his phone again as it finally came back to life. His fingers were frantic as they clicked on your name.

You uploaded a new story. Eddie sighed in relief. As it came up, your face looked tired. You weren’t smiling, instead you were holding up a glass, clinking it with another glass belonging to your best friend. His chest tightened. He wanted to be there. He wanted to drink with you, hold you and take care of you. You had to walk home. And he had to fucking work. He swiped to the next story.

It was this morning, he knew only because of the time included. Just an hour ago. You were smiling this time. It was your day off and you were thrilled to to go the Halloween store today. Eddie couldn’t stop looking at your bright eyes, the excitement and he needed to see it again. In person.

He had to try. He would go the store. Pretend he was looking for a Halloween costume. But when? You didn’t give a time. It didn’t matter. He would stay all day and wait. It was his day off too.

Eddie threw himself in the shower, got dressed and drove to the store. It didn’t matter if it was an hour away. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t planned dressing up, or that he would have to swap schedules. You were on his mind. Whatever you were doing, he wanted to be a part of it.

Bad omens played loudly in his van as he came into the parking lot. Eddie’s heart started to hammer as he unbuckled and stepped out. His neck was warm at the thought of hearing your voice again so he tied his hair up.

Opening the door, he was greeted with gruesome decor, rows of costumes and several people shopping. Fuck, how was he supposed to find you? If you were even here yet? His shoe tapped impatiently as he was torn on where to go. Costumes. That’s where he’d start. But what kind? Sexy? Scary? in between?

As he walked down the section, he pretended to search. His rings occasionally getting caught in the fabrics and plastic. He wasn’t interested in this. He didn’t want to participate without you. Oh god, who drove you here? Were you going to be alone? He didn’t think about that. He just moved. Eddie dug out his phone from his pocket.

“Hey, Eddie! Is that you?”

He froze.

Eddie turned around and there you were.

This time, you were wearing a dress. A black one. With a matching sweater and combat boots. But his eyes fell to the tattoo on your chest. He hadn’t seen it because you always wore higher neck tops. Eddie almost salivated. Your makeup was dark again with your apparent favorite lipstick. He wanted to touch your skin, run his tongue along the art. He knew you would taste sweet. So sweet.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Eddie dropped into a serious expression. “Are you following me?”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head. “No, I just saw you-“ Then he grinned. He knew he was such a tease.

“I’m joking, sweets. I’m just here for my Halloween costume.” Such a fucking lie. But he needed to establish a common ground.

You sighed in relief.

“Me too. We had the same idea.” You didn’t protest at the nickname. Eddie tried not to smirk. You were happy to see him. He had to ball his fists to keep from touching you.

“What are you going as? I haven’t decided.” Eddie forced himself to sound light hearted but he truly needed an idea. You set the stage on his actions.

You gestured, “Follow me and I’ll show you.”

And then you stuck out your hand. Eddie thought he would bust in his pants. He accepted as you gently guided him to the other side of the store, where a large amount of costumes were hanging on the wall. Your grip was firm, warm and steady. You were confident in taking his hand. Eddie’s eyes were glued to your lower half, covered by the fitted dress. Your calves peeked out from the slits on the side. He saw more ink. How many tattoos did you have? He wanted to explore them. Compare them to his. You came to a stop and released him. Eddie wanted to stop you, grab your hand again.

“I’m going with this,” You pointed to the hanging plastic bag and Eddie followed direction.

The picture was a Sweeney Todd costume. Fake blood included and wig. It would be hot. You could pull off anything. But the wig he wanted to protest against. Covering your perfect hair? The hair he wanted to dig his fingers in and pull? Caress? Both? “That’s a great one. I think you’ll stand out. Not everyone knows that reference.”

You smiled again. Eddie felt like he won the lottery. “I like to stand out from the crowd, I guess. My best friend is throwing a Halloween party this year. And I finally had the day off to come here.” Eddie nodded, swallowing the urge to reveal he already knew that.

“I hope you’re not working too hard but I can’t stop listening to the CD. You knew exactly what I needed.” Your hands reached up, pressing against your chest. “You really like it? I’m not used to someone actually agreeing with me.” Eddie couldn’t believe that. Who could resist you? Who wouldn’t give your favorite band a try? He would fix that problem.

“Why wouldn’t I like it, sweets? I’ll have to get more recommendations soon, it makes my driving more exciting.” You opened your mouth to respond but something caught your eye and you excitedly beamed.

Eddie turned, desperate to find what caught your attention other than him.

“That’s my favorite slasher movie! If I hadn’t already decided on this, I would wear that.” Eddie’s eyes widened. It was a Ghostface costume. Why didn’t he know that? He ground his teeth. He should have looked closer at your posts. Maybe he would have seen it. You had amazing taste in movies.

“An amazing movie. That would have also been a perfect choice. But I’m not sure anyone could be scared of you, pretty girl. You’re way too sweet.” The names slipped out his mouth before he could catch himself. But you dipped your head and bashfully peeked at him through your lashes.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He itched to say more, compliment you more but he didn’t want to freak you out. Especially considering he watched your instagram everyday to know exactly what you were doing but he needed you. He would do whatever he needed to make you feel the same way.

Your phone started to ring. Eddie wanted to beg you not to answer. No, stay here in the moment. You sighed, holding the device up. “It’s my dad. I need to take this. But I hope I’ll see you at the store again! And maybe we can talk more. You really get me.” And then you turned away, quietly speaking to your father.

Each time he managed to speak to you, get somewhere, it was interrupted. But this wouldn’t be wasted. No. Eddie moved away from you, as painful as it was and quickly picked up the Ghostface costume. He didn’t know how he would make this work but god damn it he would.

Eddies emotions went beyond his limit when he was hunched over, phone glued to his hand as he poured over your story on his bed when he got home. Your stories consisted of showing off the costume you bought and then several memes about Halloween being everyday for you. And then you posted your old looks. Most of them were edgy, skulls, prosthetics and some were even masks. Except one. You were wearing a short, thigh high black dress. Fishnets and heels. Your face painted with the Crow makeup. Your chest ink and your leg tattoos were on display.

The intricate thorns that wrapped around both thighs but on the left center was a large showing of multiple flowers. On the right was a skull, jaw slightly open to allow a dark snake to wrap around.

His cock felt like it was going to burst but he would not give in. He just didn’t know what to do. How would he get into the party? Sneak in? He was going insane.

And that’s when Steve hit him up. When Eddie answered the phone, Steve proceeded to explain that there was a Halloween party at a penthouse. And the owner just so happened to be your best friend.

Eddie thanked whatever universe, energy or even a God if he even bothered to look at him considering what he was doing. It was Halloween night. He wore the long, black gown. A black shirt and jeans underneath. Heavy boots. Most importantly, the Mask. Steve charmed the security, getting them both inside. The lights were off only to be be replaced with LED strips covering the edges of the wall and even the ceiling.

The living room was spacious, modern furniture and sleek tables covered in red cups, beer bottles and liquor bottles. He squinted his eyes, his vision obscured by the mask. No one paid much attention to him, most people had some sort of horror film costume, he wasn’t the only Ghostface. Fuck. How would you tell it was him? He did all of this for you. Music blared, he could feel it in his chest as he walked around the penthouse. Stepping on decorations fallen to the wood floor.

Steve left his side but Eddie knew he was looking for the hostess of this party. Where were you?

There.

His breath hitched and he froze in the doorway of the kitchen. You were pouring a drink in a solo cup. Your costume was perfect. The white puffed sleeves, black vest and striped pants. Fake blood coated your hands, darkening your fingernails. You weren’t wearing a wig, instead you had the signature white streak in your hair. Good. You didn’t need the wig. He opened his mouth to talk but you turned and started walking into the next room.

No. No. Why did he take so fucking long? He was here right now. He used so much effort to be close to you. Eddie took a steadying breath. And he walked directly behind you, he kept trying to tap your shoulder but you were quick. Nearly jogging. His boots hit against the floor, growing louder from speed. You maneuvered through the crowd. Where you going? He almost lost you but you started climbing the stairs where more cobwebs and pumpkins sat.

Were you running from him? From someone else? Was your best friend up here? His mind raced with endless options as he continued prowling behind you. No one was here. He almost slammed into you as you abruptly halted.

You spun around.

“Eddie, why are you following me?” Oh, fuck.

Up close, your makeup was messy. Eyeliner smudged heavily, your lips were dark and glossy. You looked up at him through lashes. But you didn’t sound angry. Or fearful.

You sounded…playful.

He tilted his head. “I was-“

“It’s okay, Eddie. I know you’ve been following me. I know every time you look at my pictures. I knew that you followed me home. And it wasn’t an accident at the store the other day. I was hoping you would buy this.” You reached over, grasping the material of the cloak between your fingers.

Eddie grew hot. He thought he could be subtle but apparently not. You knew the whole time. But why weren’t you upset? He didn’t want you to be. But that would have been naive.

He clutched your hand. “I couldn’t help it. You’re perfect. The moment I saw you, I knew I needed you. I needed to see you, make sure you were safe. I can’t get you out of my mind. Fuck. And I just wanted to be here tonight to finally talk to you without being interrupted. All I’ve done is listen to the album you love. I know you said you weren’t mad but please, god I need you. I need to feel you. I need to-“

“Fuck me?” You finished. “Did you touch yourself while looking at me, Eddie?”

He was buzzing, ignited from the way your lips were in a smirk. You stepped closer and with your free hand, you removed his mask. His hair was even messier and his nostrils flared as he took in your perfume.

He was almost against the wall but he couldn’t take it. Eddie’s hands gripped your hips and he smashed his lips to yours. You tasted better than he imagined. And you met his intensity. Eddie flipped so you were the one pinned against the wall, diving his tongue inside your mouth. His cock was so hard it hurt and he pressed his pelvis against yours, grinding into you. A moan escaped your mouth and he reached down, grasping your knee and pulling it around his hip. He could feel how wet you were through your pants.

Eddie ripped away from your mouth, moving to concentrate to the soft skin of your neck when you grabbed him by his arm and burst through a door he didn’t notice was there. He only had time to register a bed in the center of the room before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled his bottom lip with your teeth. “I wanted you the first day you came in,” You murmured. Eddie pushed your back against the bed, landing him on top of you and he straddled your lap.

“I-can I-can I fuck you?” He had to ask, as frenzied as he felt, he needed you to want it as much as he did.

“Fuck, Eddie. Yes, I want it so bad.” You whined, arching your back into him as he buried his face in your neck, peppering kisses against your jaw before sucking the spot above your collar bone.

You tore off the cloak, before taking off his black shirt with it and running your hands down his chest, stomach before tugging his belt. Eddie lifted his head, helping you as he kicked off his jeans. But he wanted to taste you. He slid down, peeling off your tight pants and your underwear. Eddie got impossibly harder as you mewled as he separated your legs.

Your cunt dripped with arousal and he spread it apart, coating his thick fingers. He dove in, flattening his tongue against your clit. Eddie moaned at your sweet taste as he licked down your slit before slipping his tongue inside you. You were jerking your hips to hump his face, his nose continually hitting the sensitive nerves in the center.

“I’m gonna cum.” Eddie didn’t speed up, he stayed hungrily lapping your pussy and your movement locked, your thighs squeezing his head. The entire lower half of his face was glistening as he pulled away.

Eddie crawled over you and captured your lips in a bruising kiss. Smearing cum all over your mouth, messing your lipstick even further. Just like he imagined.

“Please, fuck me.” You whimpered and he clumsily took off his boxers, releasing his heavy cock leaking with precum.

Eddie lined his dick against you before pressing inside, stretching your pussy as you clenched around him. He groaned from deep in his chest and shuddered. Your nails dug into his skin as he started thrusting, deep and hard. The bed was slamming against the wall.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

He couldn’t even speak anymore, you felt so good he saw stars and he loved the pain from you scratching him. “I’m-I’m close.”

He wanted to hold off for you but the way you cried out, burying your face on his shoulder, Eddie spilled into you. Fuck condoms, he thought. His breath came in choked pants as he pulled out and scooped you into his arms. He was completely naked and you only had a shirt on, that he planned on removing once he caught his breath.

“I can’t believe you knew the whole time. And I can’t believe you liked me back.”

Your head turned as he held you close to him, his arms tight around you. He never wanted to let you go. Now that he’s tasted you, he could never stop.

“Eddie, why do you think I let you follow my account? Why do you think I told you to listen to bad omens? I wanted you to think about me. Besides, your friend Steve pulling the same move on my best friend.”

Holy shit. My first Eddie fic. I’m back with fics! Huge thanks to my tumblr wife @xxhellfirebunnyxx for helping me with this, encouraging me and beta reading. And my little sister @scene-and-dandylover for always supporting me.

Taglist for this!

@reidsbtch @battymunson @take-everything-you-can @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @taintandviolent @hyperharlz @elaine-in-the-membrane @onegirlmanytales @randominstake

If I forgot about have mercy I am tired

[witchyy-kittyy]

Your Guide To Not Falling For Witchcraft Consumerism

Yes, we've all see the pretty jars and the cute crystals and the fancy herbs, and yes, we all want them. However, you don't need 500000 crystals or jars or anything like that. So. Here is a guide to not falling for witchcraft consumerism

remember that you are broke and that the money you plan on putting towards these aesthetic things should be going towards stuff like rent and food. because we live in a capitalist hellscape.

in all seriousness though, here are some alternatives:

instead of crystals, find pretty rocks on the side of the road, clean them, charge them with intention, and there you go!

instead of herbs, pick native plants with similar intentions (make sure to leave an offering for the nature spirits!)

instead of fancy essential oils, mix native plants and water to create the same intention

instead of incense, do sound cleansing! this also helps with fire safety

go to your local thrift store for clothes or bowls and stuff. i found these four candle holders for 8 dollars total, and they're super pretty and work just the same

especially with fall coming up, use leaves and acorns in your spells!

for candles, you can usually make that on your own. if you can't, i recommend checking out local shops, because then at least you're supporting small businesses

[akiranzee]

i got another idea!!!(modern but still demon) you know how muzan sees through his minions's eyes? they know where they are at all times and what they are doing? Well... Imagine his demon wife shopping at a store and uh... finds some things to wear~ Sexy stuff, of course. be it a revealing maid outfit or casino bunny or even really really enticing lingerie.(which ever you chose) If i were him i'd be having reader come back home right after purchasing these things XDD

👙 • ° ` — \\ “EXCITE ME”

╰┈➤ PAIRINGS: muzan x demon wife!y/n ╰┈➤ SUMMARY: Lingerie for excitement. ╰┈➤ WORD COUNT: 0.2k+ ╰┈➤ CONTAINS: suggestive content (?), lingerie, & muzan is 1,000 while reader is 999. ╰┈➤ A/N: i found the lingerie on sims4 mods, i forgot which tho so i can’t put a link😭😭

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------------Complete!------------

muzan — a man who’s very serious, a man who’s not one to fool around, a man who never smiles out of kindness or a good reason, and the only thing that excites him is the thought of blue spider lilies.

but you, his dear wife, had thought of an alternative way to make him excited, and that is you walking inside an adult shop in the red light district.

and of course, knowing muzan, he doesn’t want to lose what is his, so now he’s stalking you through your very own eyes.

there are vibrators, adult magazines, porn CDs, and... revealing outfits.

his eyes widened when you pick up a lingerie — one that doesn’t cover your shoulders and thighs, it was like a bikini — its bra only covered the nipple though, a pink horizontal line through the breasts, as the swells were revealed out, and... a string underwear with no cloth nor fabric, just simply... a pearl string hovering over the pussy lips, and a transparent pink cloth connecting the both of them together.

he was staring right at the mannequin wearing it, but he already sees you in those, blood rushing through his bulge. it doesn’t take him a minute to contact you right after you handed the shop seller the money, urging you to come home.

you smile mischievously, finally finding out this husband of yours is not all that serious — rather, he’s excited about this too.

───────────── ☆ ─────────────

© akiranzee || do not steal, plagiarize, or repost my works without my permission.

[jiraisupportgroup]

♡ Hair Care Tips for Hard Times ♡

Hair care is hard! Especially now that "clean girl" and similar things are super popular, everyone seems to have a 10+ step hair care routine and that is exhausting (/hyp).

Don't be afraid to have a basic routine! There is absolutely no shame in skipping extras like leave-in conditioner or oils, depending on your hair type you honestly might not even need them.

This post is mostly aimed towards bare basic "I cannot get myself into the shower but need to take care of my hair" tips for maintaining hair outside of the shower. Because of this (even though I just said skip all the extras), it does talk about leave-in conditioners, oils, etc, but mostly as an outside-of-the-shower alternative to conditioners, or as a way to freshen up in between showers.

On another note: I tried to add additional tips for textured hair because I know care can be very different. I spent a lot of time poking around Reddit for more tips, but if I worded anything incorrectly, or if you have more tips that you use, let me know! I'd love to edit or add to this with more tips you guys have!

♡ Greasy or in need of refreshing ♡

⟡ If you're feeling a bit more motivated, but not prepared to take a full shower, try washing your hair while sitting down in the shower or on the edge of the tub. Forget about leave-in conditioners, oils, etc, just do the basic shampoo -> conditioner -> done. Make it as easy for yourself as possible. If you need to use a 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner combination, do it! They aren't the best for your hair, but if it makes the process easier for you, do it. Anything worth doing is worth doing poorly, do whatever you can to make it easier for yourself to get it done.

⟡ For some people, washing your hair in the sink works well since you don't have to worry about the rest of your body getting wet, and you can leave your clothes on. I recommend putting a towel over your shoulders and using a larger sink if possible (I have most definitely washed my hair in the kitchen sink before).

⟡ If you have thicker or more textured hair, the washing process can be exhausting sometimes. Sometimes running cool or lukewarm water through your hair just to wash off your scalp, then applying a light oil or leave-in conditioner to the ends to keep them hydrated can help freshen up without taking up too much of your day.

⟡ Dry shampoo is your best friend. You can use store-bought aerosols, or sprinkle cornstarch or baby powder onto your scalp, let it sit for a few minutes, then brush out the excess or if your hair is thicker you can shake it out over a bathtub to get the extra out. With thicker or more textured hair it can help to part your hair into sections so it can get to your scalp more easily.

⟡ Wetting and running your fingers through your hair just to fluff it up or break it up can help with upkeep, especially if you don't have the energy for (or your hair doesn't do well with) brushing it out.

♡ Dry or tangling easily ♡

⟡ If your hair is really dry at the ends (sometimes dry shampoo can dry out your hair a little too well), you can use a leave-in conditioner, or a little bit of an oil like jojoba oil or coconut oil to bring some moisture back into it. I recommend getting your hair a little bit wet for this, or diluting the oil with water and spraying it on your hair for better absorption. This can also help with keeping your hair pattern better, if you have wavy hair it can lose it's bounce if it's too dry, if you have textured hair it can lose it's fluff or be hard to style if it dries out, don't be afraid to oil those ends!

⟡ Oils or conditioners can also help prevent hair from tangling as easily. Dry or damaged hair can tangle much easier than moisturized hair, so keeping it a little oily can help prevent really bad tangling.

⟡ Be careful with straighteners! Depending on your hair type straightening it can make it a bit easier to maintain, but it can dry your hair out soooo much, especially if it is already damaged. Use a low setting and try to put just a little oil in the ends to keep them from tangling.

⟡ NOTE: When I say a little oil I mean a little. Like a teeny tiny bit, the least you can get away with using. This depends on your hair type, but especially if you have thinner hair you don't want to get into a cycle where you use dry shampoo because it's greasy and then you use too much oil and it gets greasy again. This is something you'll feel out as time goes on.

♡ Hairstyles or hiding ♡

⟡ Using bonnets or wrapping your hair in an old t-shirt while you sleep can help keep it from getting too tangled, losing texture, breaking, or losing moisture. It also helps keep your hair out of your way and off of your mind for a while.

⟡ For thinner hair, consider putting it into a ponytail or braid if it is long enough to keep it all together and out of your way. Try not to tie it too tightly, and stay away from those little rubber band-type holders if you can, using a thicker hair tie will help keep your hair from getting stuck in it, and will make it easier to take it down in the future. Try to take it down and put it back up if it starts getting tangled, I usually aim for about once a day if I can but I've definitely left my hair in braids for 4 days at a time before taking it out and re-doing it.

⟡ For thicker hair or more textured hair you have a few more options. Ponytails and buns work great, or you might consider braids or twists just to keep maintenance a bit lower for a while. This can be a lengthy process so ask friends or family for help! You also don't have to do it all at one time. Depending on what style you're doing you may be able to pull it up and wrap it with a scarf when you go out, or if you're braiding it sometimes you can wrap the braids you have done around the unbraided part to make a little braid bun situation.

⟡ If you're not feeling up to putting it up like that, or you want to just wrap it up and not think about it, things like headbands, scarves, beanies, hats, etc are great options. When I shaved my head I would wear beanies 24/7 and I didn't worry about hair maintenance until it was about shoulder length again because I just didn't know what to do with it T_T. But! No one even knew that I didn't brush it for like 6 months (I also was very grunge at the time so it fit the theme).

♡ Tackling matted hair ♡

⟡ If your hair is badly tangled but not quite matted, use a detangling spray, let it sit for a few minutes, then go in with a wide tooth comb first to break up the hair, then a thinner brush (like a wet brush) to continue brushing. Start from the ends and work up, hold the hair above where you’re brushing to avoid pulling on your scalp, and apply more spray as needed. Do this in a comfortable place like the couch or your bed, and have something to entertain yourself during this process like a movie or music or YouTube video, whatever you can do to make this process as bearable and comfortable as possible.

⟡ If your hair is matted (thick hard chunks of hair) it’s a bit more of a process. Do not panic, do not beat yourself up, it happens, it’s okay. It’s honestly more common than you would think, especially in people with depression or fatigue. Start with wetting the hair, do not try to use shampoo or wash it, just get it wet, then slather it with either a deep conditioning conditioner or a hair mask mixed with an oil like jojoba oil or coconut oil (or mineral oil surprisingly enough; works well for detangling but it can be kind of hard to get out of the hair afterward), and a little bit of apple cider vinegar. Let it sit for about 30 minutes, you want to give your hair time to soak up all the moisture it can. Take your hands and break apart the larger chunks into sections, if this causes tearing or hurts, leave that section alone and move on to another section or brushing. Take a hard brush (like a wet brush or a tangle teezer - really just don’t use a bristle brush) and start from the bottom. It can be hard to tell where the bottom of a mat is, just start from whatever part of it is furthest away from your scalp. During this process a lot of hair will come out, most of this is hair that has already fallen out and is trapped inside of the mat, don’t worry, you’re not balding or ripping your hair out. Apply more oils as needed, break the larger chunks into smaller ones when you can, and have patience! This is a lengthy and frustrating process, it might even feel like you’re not getting anywhere at times but I promise with time you will get there. You don’t have to do this all in one session either. If you can break it into smaller mats, just focus on one of the chunks at a time & go from there. If you can, ask for help! Friends or family, anyone who is willing to hang out and watch movies and brush your hair for a while, it is so much easier with just a little help. You might be surprised at who is willing to help you out (like one of my coworkers recently came over to help me clean my apartment and I really didn't expect her to, it was super nice! No shame in asking, the worst that will happen is they'll say no or they're busy, don't sweat it!)

Thank you for reading ~

Hopefully, some of these tips can help out! Don't forget that you're not alone! I sit writing this with hair that hasn't been properly washed in about 2 weeks so fear not! You're not gross or lazy or anything like that, sometimes it's just hard!

If you have any additional tips or edits feel free to message me or pop them in the comments below!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[girlishguitarist]

I always feel so weird when I see companies making mega expensive “punk” and “goth” clothes. I used to know this other person who kept on wanting to get into the goth scene, and another one of my friends literally was so willing to help her and get her started out with like music recs and clothing tips and she’d constantly tell us. “Oh, but dressing goth isn’t accessible for me. I don’t have the money.”

Which y’know makes sense, not everybody has the money to drop on getting goth clothes. Especially when your priorities are literally keeping a roof over your head and paying bills. We’re all from working class families here. But then we just kind of realised she was referring to the shit you’d find on like… Killstar or Dollskill and everything made a lot more sense. It’s been making me think. Ever since alternative subcultures such as goth, such as punk, even grunge tbf have made their way into mainstream fashion trends on the internet it’s made people believe that the only way you’re able to get clothes to “dress the part” is to fork out shite tonnes of money to these ridiculously overpriced online clothing stores. (You don’t even have to dress goth for example to be goth because it’s a music based subculture but that’s a whole other thing.)

The way trends are today with this whole, “aesthetic” thing along with the consumerist HELL that is fast fashion sparks a wave people just buying swathes of overpriced clothing to hop onto a clothing trend that is actually ripped from a subculture they don’t really understand? Like part of the whole core of these subcultures is that we are anti-consumerist and anti-capitalist. You are a fucking joke.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking negatively about people who truly want to get into these subcultures. There is nothing wrong with that at all, of course there isn’t. I’m talking about people who will see a fashion trend and just hop onto it and really have no idea what they’re doing. (This is part of the reason why I believe it’s unlikely we’ll ever have a new subculture as big as previous ones ever again because of just how everything is a trend now.)

Fashion that has been born from these subcultures has always been DIY. Making your own battle jackets, thrifting pieces of clothing and tweaking them to be how you want. Like… I don’t know about you babes but I don’t think goths in the 80’s were getting their clothes from fucking Hot Topic.

The fact that companies are now and have been making ridiculously priced pieces of clothing to capitalise off of: 1.) People who want to hop on trends because they don’t want to make the clothes they just want the style now, and 2.) People who want to genuinely get into subcultures such as punk and goth but may be misguided as to where to get clothing just makes me so fucking mad because it makes getting into the fashion within these subcultures seem inaccessible and consumerist-ridden when they’re absolutely not meant to be.

[boydepartment]

princess treatment with yuta

a/n: trying to focus more on things i want to write so again i apologize for trying to get back in the groove with things that aren’t requests :(

warnings- none, just the standard 10 bullet pointed headcanons :) fluff n stuff

MASTERLIST

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ this man is the type of guy to do what he wants. idk if you guys watched the documentaries they did, but yuta stated that if he wants to do something he’s going to do it. so princess treatment towards you is almost a nonnegotiable

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ yuta will not be shy about it either, maybe a little mischievous about it, but never shy. if he picks you up something small or big from the store he is telling you or sending you a photo of it with a snarky but sweet caption.

“picked this up for you 😘”

“you mentioned this. bought it. kiss please later 💪😜”

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ if he’s in the mood, when he’s telling you that he bought you something he’ll send a goofy ass selfie with it too.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ do not get me started on this next thing… any concert you like or want to go to, he is buying for the best seats for you both. IF he can’t snake his way backstage. he wants you to be able to experience what you want to experience. and he wants you to have the best of the best. especially concert experience wise.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ VERY confident in his princess treatment skills, because it’s just him providing and doing what he wants for you. you don’t complain at all, so he barely gets worked up if someone talks to you. why would he give a fuck about what they’re saying when he knows they could never provide for you like he does.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ if you’re wearing bulky shoes, like platform boots, and you’re too tired to walk. yuta is carrying you. he doesn’t want your feet to get dirty, and he knows how expensive those platforms (he bought them for you) are so there’s no way he’s risking dropping them.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ whatever clothing style you like, whether it be vintage or new, he is helping you achieve whatever look or style you want. same with hair, you want your hair a certain way? okay take his card.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ adding onto the last bullet point…. let’s say you don’t want to go to a hairstylist because you have a bit more of an alternative style. yuta will learn how to do the haircut you want and do it for you. and if he’s feeling up to it, he’d let you cut his hair too.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ he will let you put makeup on him. ESPECIALLY if you’re in a goth, emo, or v-kei subculture. yuta will sit you on his lap or lean on the counter you’re sat on and let you do his makeup. as long as he has his hands on you he doesn’t care :P

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ yuta picks up a lot of subtle matching things for you both, he likes to know that people are aware you belong to someone. it’s not a big deal if people come up and talk to you, that itself is an ego boost because he knows they’re a loser compared to him. however, he still enjoys knowing that you have something of him on you almost at all times <3

[janeyseymour]

hiii!! i love your writing and i hope you’re doing well <3 i was hoping to request a melissa x reader with “causal” work crush between the two of them. reader is a very put together teacher during school hours but a trendy aesthetic person off campus. mel comes across reader at the grocery store and is astonished at the revealing alternative style and sexy tattoos. reader gets super nervous and shy once mel teasingly approaches. no one at work has ever seen her like this but especially not her crush melissa

oh wow, this one... nice. written as i procrastinate cleaning my house!

Personal and Professional

wc: ~2.4k

You grew up hearing from both of your parents that you should never mix the personal with the professional. So you compartmentalize. You’ve always done it. You kept school life away from home life when you could, and now you keep your work life away from your home life. That’s not to say that you aren’t friends with your coworkers at school. It’s just that it’s much easier to keep professional Y/N and personal Y/N separate.

And the personal and professional you are two entirely different people.

You see, at school, you’re ‘Miss Y/N’. You keep it all together. You’re buttoned up, you’re conservative in your clothing style, and you strive to maintain that aura of professionalism that you see coming off of people like Barbara Howard. You’re pretty damn good at it too. You’re kind, you allow your coworkers to see small bits of your home life (“Oh, I’ll probably just do some grocery shopping before laying on my couch for the entirety of the weekend… maybe I’ll go to the gym,” is your usual response when they ask what you’re doing over the weekend), and the teachers have all come to respect you once you settled into your position.

But once the school hours are over and you can let your hair down, both figuratively and metaphorically, you trade out your blouse and sweater or blazer for more form-fitting and revealing shirts, pants that aren’t slacks, and you change your flats to your doc martens that you’ve been rocking since the eleventh grade. You take out the clear stud and put in your nose ring, and exchange earrings different from the delicate hoops you wear to school. Your multiple tattoos show in your street clothes, and you love it. 

You’re not entirely sure how your coworkers would feel if they knew that this was how you presented yourself outside of the school, but it doesn’t matter. They’re so used to seeing you all done up to teach that even if they did see you outside of school, they probably wouldn’t recognize you. You sure as hell wouldn’t go out of your way to say hello if you saw one of them outside of campus.

But then things start to change about six months into working at Abbott.

Shit. You have a thing for one of your coworkers- Melissa Schemmenti to be exact. It’s a very casual and silly thing the two of you have going on, really. She flirts with you, you flirt with her; it’s all in good fun. You know that you’ll never act on it though because you keep your many lives as far away from each other as possible, even going as far as grocery shopping a few streets over from where you know most of your coworkers go in order to not run into them. You’ve never had an issue with running into anyone outside of the school anyway- why would that change?

“What are your plans for the weekend, hot stuff?” Melissa flirts with you while you’re eating lunch. “And don’t give me your usual answer… you gotta have more of a life than what you lead on, miss mysterious.”

You roll your eyes. “You wish I was with you.”

She hums in lieu of an answer before asking you again, “What are your plans for the weekend?”

“Honestly?” you chuckle. “Probably some grocery shopping, I have a friend coming over tomorrow, and then Sunday is a day to grade and veg out on the couch while I catch up on some shitty reality tv.”

“Sounds riveting,” the redhead jokes.

“Well, what do you have going on?”

“Nothin’,” she grins. “I fully plan on staying in my Eagles sweatshirt and catching up on laundry and some chores- probably have some wine while I’m at it. Care to join me on Sunday after I go to church?” She’s never asked you if you wanted to hang out outside of work before, and it throws you for a loop. You nearly choke on your salad.

“Oi,” she huffs playfully. “I was just messin’. I don’t want to have to endure any of that shit reality tv in my house.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “I wouldn’t want you to have to sit through that either.” The two of you finish up your lunches and head back to your classrooms to deal with your monsters for the rest of the Friday.

“See you Monday, babe,” Melissa winks at you as she closes the door to her classroom and locks it.

“Oh, counting down already, I see,” you roll your eyes. “See you Monday, babe.”

When you get home, you change out of your stuff work attire and into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. You change out your jewelry for the things you prefer. You fully plan on laying on your couch with a bottle of wine on this lazy Friday night, but when you get home you realize that you finished off your favorite white last weekend. With a sigh, you go into your bedroom to change into some nicer street clothes- you would rather be caught dead than wear sweatpants and a sweatshirt out in public. At the front door, you pull on your docs, and then you’re off to the grocery store.

If you’re there now, you decide it’s best to just get your grocery shopping for the week out of the way. You grab a cart and start perusing the aisles like you usually do.

You have a few things in your cart when you find yourself in the aisle with the wines and beers, and you’re currently pouring over the selections. What would your friend want? Probably just some Yuengling. So you throw a case of that into your cart before turning to look for the wine that you love. Little do you know, Melissa is turning her cart down the aisle that you’re currently in, and she recognizes you almost immediately.

You look so starkly different than she’s used to seeing you. If she’s being honest, she’s a little thrown off with your outfit. She’s so used to seeing you in your work attire, your hair either in a neat, low bun or down. But here? This look is entirely different from what she was expecting you to be done up in outside of work. She of course knew that you wouldn’t always be dressed like a teacher, but wow. She was not expecting this. You’re in a pair of tighter, ripped black jeans, you have a tank top on, and your hair is thrown up into a stylish messy bun with a few pieces strategically pulled out to give off the appearance that it’s an effortless look (it is for you). Is that a tattoo on your shoulder that she sees? And a tattoo on your arm? How has she never noticed that before? You have a cartilage piercing, bold earrings for your first and second, and… is that a nose ring? She didn’t even know you had your nose pierced. If Melissa’s honest with herself, it only makes you that much more attractive.

You turn, satisfied with your decision, and pop the bottle into the top of your shopping cart. You make eye contact with the redhead that is practically drooling over the sight of you. You give her a shy wave, but you don’t dare to interact. Don’t mix the personal from the professional. The woman snaps out of her own trance and waves back with a curious look.

You continue down the aisles, and you think that you’re in the clear from Melissa- you acknowledged her, that’s all you had to do. She goes on her way too, but the two of you run into each other again during checkout.

“Hey there, hot stuff,” she winks at you as she starts putting her groceries up on the conveyor belt. “Never pegged you as a beer girl.”

“Hey,” you say softly, shyly. “It- it’s actually for my friend.” That also throws Melissa for a loop. At school, you’re so confident, quick to make a remark. But now, you sound like you have something caught in your throat, and you nervously tuck one of the loose strands of hair behind your ear, as if that would make you more professional looking. “I’ve never seen you around here before?”

“I usually go to the one that everyone else goes to, but they were out of my wine, so…” she gestures to it before putting it up on the belt. “It was worth the extra ten minute drive though if it means I get to see you.” She winks at you with those emerald green eyes of her, but you don’t reciprocate. You nervously worry your lip between your teeth, as if you have no idea what to say.

Melissa understands your hesitation and shrugs. The two of you stand in line together awkwardly. She’s rung up, and as she leaves, you call a gentle, “Have a good weekend, see you Monday.”

She turns and blows a kiss your way, waving flirtatiously before leaving.

Your weekend is nice. Your friend comes over, you go out to the clubs, and you almost forget about the encounter that you had with the hot redheaded second grade teacher.

The small break from work is over all too soon, and you find yourself somewhat dragging yourself into Abbott on Monday, but duty calls. You’re back to wearing your lightly colored blouse and a sweater over top to cover the tattoo that you didn’t feel like putting makeup over today, you’re back in your dress pants and flats. You didn’t even bother to do your hair, just simply brushing it and letting it cascade over your shoulders instead.

You enter the staff lounge and it’s empty, as it always is. You’re always the first one in. Whoever comes next is always a mystery, but today, it’s Melissa Schemmenti. Of course it is. Without anyone else there to buffer, you know she is absolutely going to bring up your meeting on Friday night.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” the redhead says suavely. “Have a nice weekend?”

“Yeah, babe,” you shoot out. The coffee pot dings. “You want some?”

“You know I always do,” she sighs out as she makes a move for the cabinet with the mugs inside. She grabs hers before sauntering over to you. The second grade teacher hands you the mug before cozying up to you.

“For you,” you roll your eyes as your pour the scalding hot liquid into her cup.

“Thanks, babe,” she smirks and winks. “So… when were you goin’ to tell me about this little number?” she rests a gentle hand on your shoulder- the one with the tattoo.

“What do you mean?” you chuckle.

“That tattoo,” she licks her lips.

“I forget it’s there,” you roll your eyes. “Young Y/N mistakes.” Not true at all. You love that tattoo, and most of your street clothes show it off. 

“It’s sexy,” she tells you lowly. “Kinda like the ear spike and the nose ring I had no idea you had.”

“I’m a different woman outside of school, babes,” you tell her, smirk evident as you start to fix your own coffee. “Didn’t realize I had to tell you about it all.”

“You don’t,” she shrugs. “I’ll find it all out myself… little miss alt girl.”

“In your dreams,” you fire out, and you get pretty close to her.

“Oh, every night,” she challenges you and moves even closer. At this point, the two of you are nose to nose.

And wow, it wouldn’t take much more for you to-

“Good morning!” Janine bursts in through the door, not knowing what she’s walking into.

You and Melissa couldn’t jump away from each other faster. The young, energetic teacher starts to ramble on all about her weekend, and your other colleagues start to make their way in. When it comes time to watch the news, Melissa settles herself in next you. Her hand finds its way to your shoulder, and she starts to trace the outline of you tattoo. Then, you feel the redhead’s hand make its way to your arm, where the other tattoo is that she saw. You didn’t know she saw that one too. She lets her fingers lazily trace around that one as well. All of your coworkers are too enamored with what’s happening on the screen to really notice, and Melissa’s green eyes are trained on the television as well. You could not be further from what’s happening on the screen. All you can think of is Melissa, and the things that she’s doing right now are driving you crazy.

Soon though, the kids will start to trickle in, and you know you have to get to your classroom. So you head out, a flirtatious smile and wink thrown the second grade teacher’s way before you close yourself into your room. You take a deep breath, and get ready for your day.

As you’re about to make your way out of your classroom, you hear heeled boots clinking along the linoleum floor, and you know those boots belong to the redhead that’s been on your mind all day.

“Hey, babe,” you says, back turned to the door, but you know it’s her. “Come to walk me out?”

The clicking gets louder, and before you can even think, Melissa has you pinned up against your desk. You can feel the corner of it digging into your back, and then you don’t because all you can feel are her lips on yours. Instinctively, you kiss her back. It’s better than you had been dreaming of. And then she pulls back, wipes away the lipstick she left smudged, wipes her own mouth to fix her own lip, and then winks at you.

“I’m done pretending that all this flirting we do is harmless,” she says once she’s righted herself. “You, me, dinner tonight at The Capital Grille. 6, sharp.”

You don’t know what else to do other than nod.

“And don’t come dressed in your teacher outfit,” she instructs. “I want the babe that you are… Ear spike, nose ring, tattoos out.”

With that, she turns on her heel and makes her way out of your room. As she’s making her way down the hall, you hear her call over her shoulder, “Don’t miss me too much!”

So much for not mixing the personal with the professional.

Next

[showf4lls]

ɞ ― make a home in you; chuckle sandwich

cw + info! fluff, headcanons / no CWs

includes! ted nivison + charlie slimecicle + jschlatt

dedication! @ivyinnit

notes! i’m currently trying to get over a breakup and am kind of struggling w yearning atmo so this request (while old) was kind of perfect thank you for dropping into my askbox, ivy!! little update: it’s been so long since i’ve received this request, i know. it should’ve been easy to get it out quickly, but school absolutely melted me this semester. i know that ivy’s deactivated now, but in the case that she comes across it, i hope you enjoy beloved <3

TED

⎼ y’all schedule out laundry days together. it’s cute as fuck okok

⎼ forehead and cheek kisses while you’re on your way out the door

⎼ if he wakes up before you, he makes your morning drink of choice just the way you like it! though, he prefers to sleep in with you

⎼ if you don’t have any important plans for the day and you’ve set alarms just for the sake of waking up at a certain time, he turns them all off before you wake up. he wants to give you an opportunity to rest as much as you need to; your body will wake up when it’s ready

⎼ brunch dates! while you guys prefer to sleep in together, you alternate between sleeping in and waking up at a reasonable hour depending on your plans. ted really likes taking you out to brunch and just walking around window shopping with you after

⎼ if either of you are going somewhere important, the other will help them get ready and run through a mental checklist with them before they go in order to make sure the person leaving has absolutely everything they need

⎼ y’all are constantly doing bits. it’s kind of confusing for your friends, but neither of you care much because you’re just having a great time

⎼ ted is an absolute gentleman always, not just in the honeymoon phase. constantly opening doors for you, helping you put your sweater on when you’re leaving the house, opening the car door for you. stuff like that

⎼ he rubber ducks for you a lot. just sits down near you and listens, letting you work out your issues by talking it out without feeling awkward about it

⎼ he’s just overall a great listener and very in-tune with your needs. only gives advice and input when you ask for it, but he always makes an effort to validate your feelings. holds you when you need him to and steps back when he senses that you need space. also really good at problem solving and helping out when you get overwhelmed or have sensory overload

– when you have bad days, he has a tendency to go above and beyond. he cooks dinner for you, makes sure your comfy clothes are all washed and clean, and generally just makes sure you have to do as little as possible so that you have the proper space to calm down

CHARLIE

– you guys have rapid fire joke contests together, usually late at night when you’re sitting on kitchen counters, snacking. you go back and forth until either the two of you are laughing so hard that it would be physically impossible to keep going, or someone can’t come up with a joke fast enough

– you try to stay on the sleep cycle but you both tend to get a little out of whack every once in a while, so you have these phases of going to sleep at a decent hour and then going to sleep when the sun is about to come up

– as such, you guys have these phases of making spontaneous runs to the grocery store or gas station to get snacks, usually cereal for some reason. you get whatever you want and charlie never lets you pay for any of it. on the later nights, you guys sometimes experiment with new flavors of things or weird snack combinations

– he has a thing about always making sure you’re warm enough. you’re a little chilly? he’s pulling his sweater off and pulling it over your head. once you’re all comfy and settled, he’s on his way to turn on the heater. your feet are cold? he’s running to get you a pair of fuzzy socks and a blanket in case your legs are cold too. even when you’re about to leave the house -- it’s colder than 50 outside? he’s scrambling around the house, gathering gloves and scarves and beanies for you to take with you in case you get cold, even if they don’t match. no other options but you’re still cold? mans is wrapping himself around you, trying to use his body heat to warm you up himself. he hates when you’re chilly and uncomfortable :[

– brings you home little presents all the time. literally anything that remind him of you. you have a collection of buttons and keychains that he’s seen while walking through shops. he also steals cool props from videos and projects to give to you. you have a little collection going

– loves pda all the time, but not always cuddling (which can sound confusing, but let me explain). he likes casual pda with you around the house, whether it be you resting your feet in his lap while you both lounge across the couch, sitting on the floor and leaning back on his legs while you watch a movie, him putting a hand on the small of your back while he moves around/behind you, holding onto your hand until you’ve walked out of reach, gently pressing his knuckles into your back while you’re laying on the other side of the bed and facing away from him. likes to be touching you when he can be but in little ways that aren’t super overwhelming (mostly because i feel like you’d both be too fidgety to just cuddle)

– some of your most domestic moments are spent in the kitchen, usually cooking dinner together. it’s light and warm and it feels so much like home that you sometimes find yourself questioning if it’s all real. he’s right there to tell you it is. but back to dinner. he loves cooking for you, and you love cooking for him. it’s all laughter and winding down from work days and gentle hugs and swaying together as he hums for you

SCHLATT

– it’s a little hard to find domestic moments with schlatt off the top of your head, but they’re there when you look for them. they’re quiet, but they’re ever present

– he sleeps a lot, meaning that you usually wake up before him. if he’s sleeping light enough to hear you get up, he’ll roll over, half asleep, wrap his arms around your middle, and pull you back into his chest, mumbling a groggy “ten more minutes, babe. i’ll be up then, jus’ ten more minutes.” it’s never just ten more minutes

– he picks you up and carries you around a lot. not in the typical way. if he thinks you’re working yourself too hard, he’ll grab you from your desk and throw you over his shoulder, dropping you onto the couch and forcing you to watch a movie with him. or you’ll be sleepily making yourself a snack in the kitchen and he’ll grab you from behind, just wrapping his arms around your middle and picking you up. he carries you, complaining and squirming, the whole way to your room and tells you it’s nap time

– you guys have a lot of nap dates. it’s an easy, sweet block of time for you guys to spend together, hazy and together while napping on and off. if one of you wakes up, you get to fondly watch the other nap until you fall asleep again. watch the easy rise and fall of their chest, run a hand through their hair, trace gentle patterns on their skin, play with their fingers, listen to the beating of your heart

– you do the dishes together. you wash and schlatt dries. sometimes you get into towel fights or start flicking water at each other with your fingers

– schlatt follows you out of bed when you get up in the middle of the night. he’d never admit it, but he has a hard time sleeping without you. he hates waking up to a cold bed. so when the clock blinks 3:17 and he feels around to find nothing beside him, even if your side of the bed is still warm, he huffs and gets up. pads through the house with puffy, tired eyes until he finds you. wraps his arms around you from behind and rests his chin on your head. “what are you doin’ outta bed?” he never waits for your response, just starts ushering you back to your room

– really likes seeing you in his clothes, again, not that he would ever admit it. he’ll purposely “forget” to do your laundry so that you have to start wearing his hoodies, tee shirts, sweats, etc. it just gives him the warm fuzzies, seeing you be so comfortable and cozy in his clothes

– hangs on you a lot on days when there’s nothing to do. he’s pretty idle about it, too, kind of like a character accessory. sometimes you just have to go around the house doing your stuff with this big man hanging off of you because you don’t have the heart to tell him to leave you alone for an hour or two to get your work done

[taro-bae]

AHH Your work on a figure skater reader was so beautiful and well-written! I went to watch a circus show recently, and the trapeze act was stunning, so could I request the same Twisted Wonderland in your figure skating post with a reader who is really good at trapeze acts, but doesn’t work at a circus? Thank you so much, and at the time of requesting this, your forehead kisses post just went up, and I would also like to say that it was so good too! Thank you again! 🫶

I absolutely love this request!

I'll add Floyd to this one, he's such a menace to society.

TrapezeArtist!Reader x TWST

Summary: They find out reader is good at trapeze acts but isn't part of a troup.

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Azul Ashengrotto, Floyd Leech, Vil Schoenheit

Notes: gender neutral, set in readers room with ariel trapeze equipment, I adapted some scenarios to other ariel acts (Lyra for Vils), no warnings

Riddle────

Housewarden Riddle was checking over Heartslabyul making sure everything is to standards and rules. After his duties he decided to see how you're doing. He makes his way to your dorm his heels clicking against the ground. When he arrives at your dorm bedroom he knocks on the door wondering if you're there right now. He hears sounds coming from inside the room and some light music playing in the background. He opens the door carefully, "y/n, I-", he cuts himself off when he sees you hanging on a longish bar that's supported by two ropes that are attached to the ceiling of your room.

He's speechless watching you perform a flexible hold while you're high off the floor. He's never seen anything like it before, he knew there are people who do such things but he's never seen it in person (take him to the circus). He watches you as you hold onto the bar with your knees, while your body is hanging off in an arch. You swiftly change your grip back to your arms and come down. He stays silent for a solid minute, he takes notice that the clothes you are wearing currently show alot of skin, obviously to help grip the bar and not slip but nevertheless.

"Are you sure that's safe?", he's concerned for your safety considering you are doing this in a normal room with noone to spot. You ensure him you are trained and know what you are doing, as well as the steady condition of your equipment. He glances over the bar and the other alternative equipment you have, it's clear you are well trained. "So are you part of a circus crew perhaps?" He asks out of curiosity. He is suprised to hear that your are not and you do this as a hobby. He can understand the fitness side of it to maintain good strength and health but why do something so risky just for a hobby.

He hears your explanation that you simply enjoy doing it and that you're confident in your abilities, also that it gives you a sense of thrill and adrenaline. He supports of your trapeze skills but can't help but worry over your safety.

"Could you explain how that...hold...works?" He wants to understand your interests better and is fascinated his eyes sparkling slightly like a kid in a candy store.

Take this boy to a circus he needs to experience some joy in his life!

Azul────

Azul enters your dorm room wanting to share some new deal offer ideas with you. He pauses when he sees you on the trapeze bars swinging to press yourself up into a static pose later. His reaction is confusion.

He is constantly impressed by the possibilities of the human body, the strength and flexitime you have to move your body in such ways let alone off the floor on a suspended bar. He stands at the door holding the handle watching you with his mouth agape trying to blabber out some form of a sentence. He's rather flustered seeing your flexibility and how you carry yourself with incredible control. "You're even more incredible than I gave you credit for" He stutters out.

Regaining his composure he interrogates you on your practice and training background. He is already scheming plans for you on how you can profit off this. He offers you an opportunity to perform at Mostro Lounge, "not only can you demonstrate your talent, but it will bring in more customers", he wants to show you off while also help advertise his totally not shady business too.

He is going on a rant about the perks and benefits this would bring while also complimenting your abilities his mouth running faster than his heart beat as he pushes his glasses up to his eyes. You sit on the bar listening to his ramble, weather you agree or not is up to you (do it, he wants to watch you do that everyday for the rest of his life)

Floyd

Two words - Good Luck

Floyd bursts through your door exclaiming a loud "shrimpyyyyy~", atleast he didn't kick your door open this time. You are mid way through a skill when he comes in slightly startling you you manage to keep yourself steady despite the small scare at the sudden intrusion. Floyd's grin only grows as his eyes widen seeing the bar and ropes set up. "Little shrimpy! You're a little monkey now, huh" he comes closer his tall stature meeting your eyeline.

He does not care if you're on a bar right now, he comes closer giving you a tight squeeze. "I missed you shrimpy~" He lifts you up hugging you very, very tightly, "Are you like a circus monkey~" he laughs as he teases you. He's interested when you tell him you don't belong to a circus group and just do this for yourself.

Before you can finish, his eyes look at the bar mischievously "I wanna try!" He moves you out of the way gripping onto the bar swinging around trying to climb it. "This is fun!" He's shining on it like a child while you're trying to warn him to get down before he hurts himself. His response is "You're no fun~", pouting at you.

He gets bored eventually getting down, but beware now that he knows you have trapeze bars in your room he's going to visit more often. He really likes this about you he is intrigued by the way you move and perform those tricks, he is definitely bragging to Azul and Jade about this.

Vil

He's very knowledgeable about performance arts and finding out you are a trapeze artist piqued his interest.

He walks in on you suspended off the floor in your room as you hold onto a hoop performing a transition into a horizontal split. He admires your flexibility and endurance, and the fact you are doing this without any cables. He trusts your skills and capabilities in maintaining your safety. He observes you silently his hand near his chin, he admires your form and the shapes you create with your body and the hoop.

"Splendid, dear." He speaks up. "The way you hold yourself is beautiful". He takes in your outfit, the tight clothing that highlights your body shape and the showing skin near you arms, legs and back that helps you hold on the hoop.

He questions weather you're part of a studio or a circus crew, when he finds out you're not he does offer promoting your skills. He sees so much potential in you, wanting you to improve. Being the influential celebrity he could help you make a name for yourself if you are willing.

Vil is interested in seeing what else you can do, asking about the pose names and how they are performed, appreciating the aesthetic lines you body creates complimentary to the hoop. If you do something like a back balance he does get a little nervous concerned over your safety but trusts that you are well trained and won't fall.

"You don't stop surprising me, do you?" He smiles genuinely feeling pride and admiration for you.

♡♡♡