#He wants to do makeovers ALL the time he gets very into hair and makeup

[bumblingbabooshka]

Doodle Page of Tuvok’s Family

[inkdrinkerworld]

Spencer getting a makeover. I'm talking him getting his nails done, makeup done, hair done with multiple ponytails made by his daughter

“Daddy stay still, you’re ruining the makeup.” Georgia stomps her foot and Spencer raises an eyebrow and she smiles bashfully, tucking her chin to her chest.

“You’re bossy today,” Spencer says softly, watching Georgia flush and pick up a hair tie. “Remember,”

She cuts him off, “Don’t pull too hard, daddy gets headaches.”

Spencer smiles, letting himself relax as her fingers comb through his curls gently. It reminds him of when you wash his hair, all tender touches that proclaim all the love you can’t find the words to confess.

“Daddy can I do two ponytails?” Spencer nods, to deny her would hurt his heart. She doesn’t even have to do those puppy dog eyes you’d shown her.

“You know,” Georgia starts, a thoughtfulness to her tone. At seven, Spencer finds that she’s very empathetic and it makes him smile because he knows you’re both doing a good job.

“Some kids don’t have dads to play dress up with.” Spencer hums.

“That’s true, but I’m sure they have other people in their lives they can play dress up with.”

Georgia nods though he can’t see. “Some of my friends have two moms instead of a mom and dad, which means double dresses!”

Spencer laughs. “That’s true, Peach.” Her fingers get caught in a snag of hair and she kisses Spencer’s head in apology for the tugging.

“I’m glad you’re my dad.” Spencer’s throat feels impossibly tight. This conversation feels a bit too heavy for a weekly ‘pamper’ night.

“I’m glad you’re my daughter.” Georgia kisses Spencer’s cheek, a comfortable silence taking over the room.

“Daddy, can we have the gooey chocolate cake for dessert?”

Spencer thinks back to the books about children and how their minds wander and he wants to laugh at the sudden switch in conversation and the way the heaviness has dissipated.

“We can baby. I’ll ask mom to help me bake it this time.”

Georgia cheers, “Last time mommy said it was a disaster!” She finishes her last tie on his hair. “All done, now we get to choose something fancy to wear! And heels! You promised last time.”

[mytokyodebunker]

Asking The Ghouls To Do Your Hair

Frostheim

Jin Kamurai

Jin… Doesn't know. Probably hands it off to Tohma- I'm just joking…UNLESS-. He's actually pretty caring of others so he might learn one or two different braids but that's it. He seems like he's probably good at putting your hair in a clip or a bun but nothing else.

Tohma Ishibashi

Tohma…..He would be good at it probably. If not, then surprise!!! He is now. He's used to taking care of Jin anyways, adding hairstyles or braiding to that list wouldn't be that bad.

Kaito Fuji

Kaito would absolutely love to do it but he would probably be bad at it. He's SCREAMING at the fact that he's touching your hair with your permission, extremely happy the entire time. Might be confused during the process but he's not complaining at all.

Lucas 'Luca' Errant

He doesn’t know but won't give up until he knows every hairstyle humanly possible. Every time he asks you with earnest eyes to let him practice again, and every hairstyle is more elaborate than the last. The process is always long and painful on your scalp, but the end result never disappoints!

Vagastrom

Alan Mido

Our young grandpa himbo. We all know he wouldn't know how and he would rather not accidentally hurt you in any way, even if you flinch at the slightest tug, he'll stop immediately.

Leo Kurosagi

Leo knows different hair styles, but doesn't know how to execute it. He knows what's trending and what looks good on a person. Little bastard wouldn't give the advice until you mess up though.

Shohei 'Sho' Haizono

He wouldn't know until he get comfortable with your hair and he'll pick up on it after awhile. The type to learn quickly. Alternatively, he does Leo's hair when Leo makes him do it, and he always does a good job. Very gentle.

He also strikes me as Leo's unwilling makeup artist and lighting/photoshoot assistant so you know that he has some sort of experience.

Jabberwock

Haru Sagara

He's the best person to ask if you want someone to brush your hair nicely (and quickly), since he's the one who grooms all the animals at Jabberwock. Can't do much else to your hair - maybe add a bow? Would still somehow injure himself in the process though.

Towa Otonashi

Surprisingly good at hair. Would probably also put flowers in it too while he's doing it. Sunny sunny day the entire time....may or may not eat the flowers while it's in your hair. He knows One (1) style and proceeds to make everyone he can get his hands on look like a fairy princess. There's no choice.

Ren Shiranami

Doesn't know. Doesn't WANT to know. Frankly, he is offended you asked him. He hasn't touched a comb in ages, his hair is short enough and it'll get messed up again anyway.

If anything, you would be combing his hair. But be warned, he will loudly complain whenever you get the comb caught on a tangle.

Sinostra

Taiga Hoshibami

Taiga….Nope. He will pull and tug on your hair. Forget anything about braiding or any hair styles, he'll fuck up your hair worse than you ever could. Taiga would rip your hair out or else cut the tangles out with scissors if you ever asked.

Romeo Lucci

He had strong opinions about your hair (and the rest of your look) from the start, so if you let him he'll give you a full makeover.

he'll know what your face shape needs and wash & style your hair nicely, then complain that your skin is crap and give you a facial and apply your makeup, then put you in a better outfit so that your shitty clothes don't ruin his hard work. Then make you work the casino floor because his services don't come for free and no he won't pay you. Do you have any idea how much the perfume you're wearing costs?

Ritsu Shinjo

Doesn't know. Could learn. Will he though? Probably not, it's nothing he needs to be a lawyer. If you insist, then he proceeds to over-gel your hair while you die inside. Later, he'll genuinely ask why you haven't asked him a second time.

Hotarubi

Subaru Kagami

Subaru would say he doesn’t know anything about hair but if you insist then maybe he'll just brush it out for you, but secretly he probably knows all of the theatre hairstyles for kabuki. He prefers leaving your hair loose though.

Haku Kusanagi

He can, and is ridiculously smooth at it too. No head pain, can tell if you've got a sensitive scalp, knows all of the staple styles - ponytail, bun, braid. It's strangely therapeutic to get your hair done by him, like spending time with a big sibling.

Zenji Kotodama

Zenji would make some rendition of maiko and geisha hairstyles but with his own spin on it, but it will take hours and your scalp will be screaming at you and he won't shut up all through the process. He would spout off poetry while at it. Might sing too. If you don't like his voice, too bad he's doing it every time he does your hair if he gets the chance.

Mortkranken

Yuri Isami

He insists that he, a genius doctor, is adept at everything that requires dexterity, but he refuses to spend his incredibly precious time braiding your hair. Suggest he's not actually that good, and he'll change tune. He'll sit you down and plait your hair with perfect surgical precision (ha), then demand endless praise and fawning.

Jiro Kirisaki

Doesn’t know. Probably hasn't used a comb before. He could learn, but that's so much effort. Thinks it'd be easier for both of you if you just cut it all off.

Obscuary

Rui Mizuki

Rui won't touch your hair, because he's worried about his curse, but he'd notice right away when you change your hair. He'll happily compliment it, and might suggest hairstyles he'd love to see you wear in the future.

[miupow]

──★ ˙ ̟ ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ girl dad yeonjun headcanons .ᐟ

warnings: sfw, parent!au, dad!yeonjun, mentions of fem!reader and mom!reader, just self-indulgent tooth rotting fluff ⋆⑅˚₊

a/n: wanted to drop some fluff so here you go... this is a repost from my old blog! originally requested by @https-yeonjun ♡

-> yeonjun always wanted to have a daughter. he’s always wanted a family and whenever he’d envision that family he’d always seen himself having a daughter. or two.

-> he decided from the moment you told him that you were pregnant that the baby was a girl. it didn’t matter how often you chastised him for it, he just knew it.

-> and of course he was right, which he was very smug about.

-> not really. he ugly cried when she was born

-> calls you and his daughter “his girls”; the two most important women in his life :’(

-> he sings to her all of the time :( sung to her when she was still in your belly, sings her to sleep, hums gentle melodies when he’s holding her tight

-> she drops everything to run and greet him when he comes home every day, and yeonjun’s always quick to scoop her up n spin her around

-> she gives him makeovers all of the time! puts pretty bows n barrettes in his hair, puts play makeup all over his face,,, he’s always covered in glitter no matter how hard he tries to wash it off lol

-> he would genuinely enjoy tea parties with his daughter, would go out of his way to make sure they were perfect and complete with everything she could want

-> makes breakfast before either of you are up, loves surprising his girls :(

-> your daughter has terrible spoiled princess syndrome and it’s all yeonjun’s fault!! he’s the most unstrict dad ever. she completely walks all over him lmao

-> he just can’t say no to her!! he’ll get whatever his princess wants, no matter how much it hurts his wallet

-> and she pouts the exact same way he does!! all sad puppy eyes n duck lips omg she’s impossible to reprimand

-> hed be such an affectionate dad T^T constantly wants to hold n cuddle her, give her all of his time and attention, tell her how much he adores her!!

-> she’s his princess and she KNOWS IT!!!

-> soooo supportive in anything his daughter wishes to do! he’d be her biggest cheerleader <3 in the crowd at the school play making sure he’s cheering louder than all of the other dads

-> he’d lose his mind if anything ever happened to her

-> even if it was just her classmates saying mean things, he’d raise absolute hell

-> he’d completely freak out if she gets hurt, even if it’s a little fall or a scrape. immediately runs to coddle her and soothe her cries. she def plays up the waterworks so he gets her ice cream, and he knows this but is too smitten to care

-> he just can’t stand to see her cry :( would do absolutely anything in his power to make her tears stop no matter what

-> i have to stop before i melt oh my god

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

Robin never really got boys talk.

When Sarah turned 14 she invited all the girls in band for a sleepover. It started out fun. After her parents went to bed they put on a creepy horror movie and watched it in a huge cuddle pile. They braided each other's hair and did each other's nails and squeezed each other during tense scenes and muffled their shrieks after a sudden jumpscare.

After that they watched another one. This time Sarah sneaked her mother's makeup kit down to the living room, and so lipstick and eyeshadow joined the mess of nail polish, hair clips and snacks already on the floor.

The second movie was different. In the first one, the blood was obviously fake and the acting wasn't the best (to say the least). But the second one was tense through and through. The cries of pain were so visceral that Robin shuddered, and in the end everyone was terrified. It was silently and unanimously agreed upon that everyone had had enough TV for the night. It was already 3 in the morning, but tomorrow was the weekend and right now Robin wouldn't be able to sleep even if she wanted to, and thus began Robin's first real boys talk.

It was funny at first. Sarah pretended to die of heartbreak when "the blond hot one" was unfortunately the second to die. Heather said the nerdy one with glasses and abs was cuter, which started a very heated discussion of whether blond or brown is the more attractive hair color. Robin had to defend her correct "redheads" opinion all by herself.

(When the others got into a stalemate Sarah turned to Robin. "C'mon", she pleaded, "you know that the blond one was hotter. Just tell us which one you found prettier! And don't forget that this is my birthday party."

Robin laughed at the ribbing, played a bit hard to get, until she finally admitted. "I actually found the first one who died the prettiest." Sarah was already halfway through her victory dance, when Robin corrected her. "No, I don't mean the dude. I mean the first one. The girl with the pink purse."

Everything was silent for a moment.

Then Emma laughed. "You don't have to be jealous Robin", she consoled, "you are also very pretty."

"Yeah, especially after our makeover!"

Robin laughed and agreed and continued on as if her world just hadn't been turned on its axis. Because she knew that the stirring in her gut and the beating of her heart had nothing to do with jealousy. She didn't find the blond one hot or the brunet one cute. That was the first time she really knew it. She liked the girl.)

It was a bit funny the first time, even though she couldn't really join. It got less funny the more it went on. Suddenly boys was the only thing everyone wanted to talk about. And worse: it wasn't just unreachable famous boys like singers or actors anymore. Suddenly it was all "oh, Steve Harrington is sooooo cute" or "oh my god, Tommy Hagan had suuuuuuch a glowup" and "I want to lick the sweat of his body after basketball practice" (this last one was applicable to multiple different people, including Steve and Tommy. It was not applicable for Chrissy when she exited cheerleading practice or Beth after football.)

She thought it would get better when Emma finally confessed to her crush and they actually got together, but no. It somehow got worse. Because "normal boy talk" turned into "experienced boy talk", and Robin wasn't allowed to admit that the only thing that got wet when she thought of Billy Hargrove was her mouth, because he made her want to throw up.

At first she'd say that she didn't have crushes. After a while of people refusing to believe her (even if she was telling the truth! Sometimes.) she started pretending to be into Steve Harrington. Every girl had a crush on Steve, so it made sense that she'd been embarrassed to admit that she was just like everybody else. He was way too far above her league for her friends to force her to "confess" and she could stare without fear when he passed by in the halls with the beautiful Tammy Thompson in his arms. Truly, it was a brilliant plan. It didn't stop the boys talk, though.

So she became a tomboy. She joined football and she hung out with boys and she cut her long hair into a bob. She lost a bit of touch with Emma and Sarah and the others, but she tried not to think about it too much. Instead she threw herself into sports and started hanging out more and more with Matt, the second trumpet in band.

And that was that. Sometimes she missed wearing dresses, but it was a relief not to have her mother insisting she "do something about that hair" anymore. She and Matt became best friends. She even considered telling him for a while. Until he sat her down and confessed his feelings.

She tried to let him down as gently as possible, and they never talked again. The cycle would repeat for multiple times.

Someone out there is laughing their ass off because who would have thought that the dude she pretended to have a crush on would turn out to be the missing half of her soul?

It started out like always. She teased him, he laughed. They suffered through customer service together. He was funny and surprisingly in touch with his emotions and apparently babysat a bunch of middle schoolers, which was equally hilarious and adorable to watch. They both enjoy sports and they both hate Billy Hargrove with a passion and Robin is heartbroken because she knows she can't get attached. She has already been through this too many times to allow it to happen again. She gets close with a guy, they become best friends, he confesses, she can't reciprocate, they never talk again.

This is what is going to happen. She should already be used to it, but it still hurts. It's better for her to keep her distance. To encourage him to flirt with other girls, even if she can see that he mostly does it to amuse her.

And then they uncover an actual real life Russian spy network right beneath their place of work like some fucking blockbuster. And then they are pumped up with drugs and the next thing she knows is that they are both throwing up in a cinema bathroom.

And then it happens. Of course it happens.

He starts his little speech and her heart is already breaking. She surprises herself when she realizes how much she started enjoying Steve's company. He is a dingus, but she is also a dingus and they just fit.

She is already preparing her apology in her head (oh fuck work is going to be so awkward), but what comes out instead is what she wishes she could've said every time this happened. What she wished she could have said every time she got close to another person, every time her parents questioned if she finally found a boyfriend. Something she really tried not to feel ashamed of, but it was so fucking hard when you had to keep it hidden all the time.

(She remembers when she used to train in front of the mirror. She would stare at herself and repeat again and again "I am Robin Buckley and I am a lesbian. I am a lesbian. I am-")

She doesn't breathe as she waits for what she knows what comes next. What has to come next. There is a reason she never told anyone, always kept it hidden and to herself even if she wanted to scream it into the world. He will mock her and he will out her and he will be disgusted and-

"Tammy Thompson?!"

Instead they have girls talk. And Robin finally gets it.

[leviathans-watching]

Haluuuu I was waiting for this day!! I was about to request something from you but it was close😭 so now that it's open please hear me outt🥰🥰

Can I request a Headcanon fluff with the obey me boys or side characters reaction to their MC and kid having a sweet moment?

You can do it whenever you want I'm willing to wait!💜 Honestly your one of ny fav writers in this app! Your so good I hope you continue this with Passion 💜💜💜

you and your kid

includes: the brother x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .7k | rated g | m.list

a/n: omggg i have such bad baby fever rn and this made it worse,,, and it was so hard giving some of them sons they're all such girl dads imo

please rb <33

➳ lucifer watches you hold the spoon near your daughter’s mouth, cooing at her as she takes a bite of the human-world mashed goop. disgusting as the food looks, you and your daughter look quite the opposite, and he can’t help but smile as you gently wipe at her mouth. a fruitless endeavor, to be sure, as your guys’ daughter is one messy eater, but the care and love in your actions warms him all the same. how did he get so lucky to enjoy these moments? surely mundane seeming to some, but to him, they mean the world.

➳ mammon shuts the car door, stretching. man, it is good to be home! but seeing you open the front door, welcoming him in with his daughter on your hip is much better. you wave with a smile, and upon seeing him, your daughter starts to squirm, masking grabby hands in his direction. booking it up to you, mammon takes your daughter, pressing a big kiss on her forehead, then leans in to kiss you. “i missed you,” he says. “both of you.” your daughter squeals happily, tugging on his hair, and mammon lets her, basking in both of your presences.

➳ levi steps outside, on the hunt for you and your son. you’d both disappeared and once checking the house he knew you must be in the yard. the sound of a plastic bat hitting a ball tells him he’s right, and he makes his way around the corner. “how goes it?” he calls, and you look up. you’ve been teaching your son how to play whiffle ball, as he’d expressed interest in joining the neighborhood t-ball team, something levi was content to leave in your hands. as he speaks, your son winds up for another swing, sending the ball bouncing across the grass. you cheer and clap and levi can’t help but cheer too.

➳ satan wakes up the the baby crying, rolling over and out of bed. you’re already up, trying to comfort her, and as he joins you, he hears you singing softly, a nonsense piece that you’ve no doubt made up on the spot. “how long have you been up?” he asks, taking your guys’ daughter from you and holding her close. “i can take it from here, love. go back to bed.” you ignore his words, wrapping your arms around his waist, and he huffs out a laugh. “fine, fine, i’ll take care of you both.”

➳ asmo blinks as he meets your eyes, not expecting to see some very, uh, artistic makeup covering your face. lipstick is smeared across your chin and bright blue glitter is across your cheeks, but as you grin up at him he can’t help but think you’re as attractive as always. “oh, is it makeover time?” he asks mildly. “she takes after me, i guess. an eye for beauty and all.” you laugh, and your daughter runs into the room, beaming proudly. “this was your work?” he asks, scooping her up into his arms. “amazing!” he says as you giggle, and continues to shower her with compliments.

➳ beel wakes up to his bed shaking and looks up to see his son crawling across it. you’re in the doorway, a tray in hands, and beel can smell that it’s breakfast. “good morning, kiddo,” he says sleepily, lifting the blanket so your son can snuggle in next to him. “breakfast in bed? i’m spoiled.” you smile, setting the tray down on the bedside table, and beel can see the misshapen pancake hearts that are no doubt the product of hard work. before you can leave, beel moves the covers again, and you sigh warmly, climbing back into bed as well, your son squished in the middle.

➳ belphie feels a small hand slip into his and looks down. it’s, of course, his daughter, who always insists on holding both of your hands whenever you walk somewhere. you laugh at the familiar action, and he gives you a quelling look. “are you excited to go the park?” he asks your daughter, and she nods excitedly, full of energy. he resigns himself to hours of swing-pushing and tag-playing but consoles himself with the fact that you’ll be there too, even if it is only to take videos while he’s forced to run around and play.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[yanderecrazysie]

I really love your writing especially the angsty one such as the most recent one. Related rant but I hated most movies where the FL(Female lead) would start as cliche “ugly girl” with glasses and Terrible fashion and in the middle of the movie she takes her glasses off and suddenly become the “pretty” girl and then have a whole scene where they do a make over to make her charm the whole school. It just felt superficial and very vain, like the FL was fine the way she was, glasses don’t make you ugly as if paired with right outfit, can make you look actually cute. After all glasses are there to help you see, the fl suddenly gets her vision fix when she has her make over? And its really rubs me the wrong way that you need to have a whole make over, with a pretty dress and everything just to get people to like you. And its also pretty disheartening to see that people won’t like you if you have acne, like it natural to have acne and you shouldn’t be shamed for it.

But unto the actual request itself: can I have yandere Oikawa (or atsumu miya) x reader with this related context in mind: The reader has a crush on oikawa and with the advice of a friend, she stops wearing her glasses and does a whole make up and hair routine just to catch Oikawa’s attention. It works and one thing leads to another and both reader and oikawa start dating. At first Reader is ecstatic to finally the man of her dreams but slowly she starts to become uncomfortable with the way she looks like she no longer recognize herself. The make up starts to feel itchy and unnatural to her skin and she starts bumps into thing due to her not wearing her glasses anymore. Despite reader being miserable she till persevere and try to keep up the facade of “Oilawa’s ideal girl” but as time goes on the need to please Oikawa and the stress of keeping up appearances finally gets to her and she just breaks up with him.

On Oikawa perspective (being an entitled prick) is obviously dismayed as he wanted to have the perfect facade of a power couple. He wanted to shape the reader into his ideal pretty girl. So both reader and him have a mutual break up since both of them are now dissatisfied with the current predicament. But as oikawa sees the reader old self, he starts to fall in love (or obsessed) he finds the reader’s glasses cute and he finds that the reader is even more adorable when she comfortable and happy. Like he finds the reader more attractive when she was being her typical self without the glitz and glam. Like even if the reader has acne and wears dorky glasses, Oikawa finds that strangely attractive.

-Sorry for the mini rant, I just recently watch a movie similar to this and it left a bad taste in my mouth. Like as person with both acne and glasses, I’ve been told by some people that I stop wearing glasses due to it not “suiting me” like I wasn’t wearing it for fun, I wear it cause I need to see. Its even worse when I had acne and my friends told me to hide it with make up only to find out that make up worsens the acne problem. Thanks for listening to me

I totally get what you mean- I always found glasses attractive on guys and adorable on girls (to the point that I tried to pretend I had reading issues as a child to get myself glasses), so it was always sad to see it portrayed as “Now that she’s taken them off, she’s pretty!” I think everyone looks nice in their natural way, no makeup needed, so makeovers have always rubbed me the wrong way a little too! I personally don’t wear any makeup at all, too much of a hassle.

Title: Change

Pairings: Oikawa Tooru x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes

Summary: You don’t like your new look, but it’s gotten you so much attention. Do you really have to choose between your old look and your happiness?

Part 2: here

change

/verb/

make (someone or something) different; alter or modify:

You looked in the mirror, stunned by your reflection. Your glasses were gone, the contacts in your eyes being the only reason you could see that fact in the first place. But besides that, your hair had been swept back in a pretty bun with a braid on either side of your head and just a couple locks of hair fashionably left down. Your skin looked flawless, thanks to the makeup. You could thank the makeup too for the way your face looked so much more mature and alluring.

Your wardrobe had undergone a great change as well. Since your college didn’t have a uniform or strict dress code, you’d put on a short white dress with black stripes and a belt around the waist. A fake diamond necklace laid across your collarbone, perfectly matching the bracelet clasped around your wrist. Even your feet were squeezed into a pair of fashionable black slips.

You turned back to your friend in awe, “You’re a miracle worker!”

Your friend laughed, but it was nothing short of the truth. Before this, your hair was always left down, hanging over your glasses-adorned, lightly pimpled face. You never wore a dab of makeup and your clothes usually amounted to an oversized T-shirt, faded jeans, and ratty sneakers. You didn’t put any care into your appearance. Until now, that is.

“You’ll have to keep this up on your own, now that you know how,” your friend reminded you, wagging a warning finger at you, “But this will totally grab Oikawa’s attention! You’ll be his girlfriend by the end of the week!”

You were turning heads from the moment you walked through the school doors. How could you not? You were a gorgeous girl accentuated with the latest fashions and professionally done makeup. All you had to do was bat your long, fake eyelashes and guys would throw themselves at your feet.

Your friend was right. You’d caught Oikawa’s attention very quickly, and soon enough, he was blowing away the sudden competition by offering to carry your lunch tray and walk you home.

The attention flustered you and made you so happy, but a small part of you felt sad. He’d never noticed you before. But that was the point of this makeover, right? To get him to finally look your way? 

When Oikawa had asked you to meet him by the fountain in the courtyard, you knew exactly what he was going to ask you. You pretended to be surprised anyway, completely shocked and honored by the question.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

From that moment on, you were the school’s power couple. Everyone regarded you with awe or jealousy. “Oikawa and (Y/n)” became synonymous with “popular” and all of his friends, the people you’d looked at with envy not long ago, welcomed you to their table and inner circles.

But as time went on, you felt yourself drifting away. Oikawa always talked about appearances and critiqued you whenever your hair or makeup wasn’t perfectly in place.

It felt fake.

Your makeup, your sense of style, your relationship, everything felt so unbearably fake.

Like you were no longer yourself.

Every time you looked in the mirror, your heart sank. You didn’t even recognize yourself anymore. Being perfect had somehow become something that you despised. 

But whenever you brought up wearing your glasses again or dressing down, Oikawa wouldn’t hear of it. “What would everyone think of that?” “You have to look your best.” “We’re a power couple, sweetheart, we don’t wear things like glasses, okay?”

The stress began to tug at you until you could take it no longer. One look in the mirror on a fateful Monday morning that already hadn’t been going well and you were done.

You had to be true to yourself, even if that meant no longer being “perfect” or popular. Even if it meant losing Oikawa, who didn’t even feel like a boyfriend. More like a costar on a filming set.

That was a good way to put it- your life had become a movie and you were just an actress putting on a show. Caked in makeup and forcing a smile.

Dear Oikawa,

I can’t do this anymore. I want to go back to the way things were before we started dating. I know we already talked about how that won’t work for you, so I understand that means we’re breaking up. I’m sorry, but I think this is best for me.

Love,

(Y/n)

It felt good to undo the bun and braids. It felt even better to slide your glasses up your nose and slip on a simple, comfy T-shirt. Nostalgic might be the best word for what you were feeling, but either way, you were more comfortable than you had been in months. Why had you ever given this up?

You looked in the mirror and smiled. You’d washed off all of the makeup, revealing more than a few blemishes, but you didn’t care. You liked the way you looked and you’d be damned if you went back to drawing on your face every morning.

It was strange walking into school that morning. It was like you’d become invisible. No longer did people turn their heads to look at you, nor did you walk alongside Oikawa. But it didn’t feel lonely. What was the point of having a boyfriend when it was just for appearances? You’d always felt like there were miles between you both- as though you couldn’t reach him even with your fingers intertwined.

Your first class was with Oikawa and you weren’t looking forward to it. He might be mad, after all, that his “power couple girlfriend” dumped him and went back to looking nerdy. You chose your old seat, one near the front of the class, instead of the back row where all the “cool people” sat.

When Oikawa entered the classroom, he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at you as though he couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t blame him- you looked completely different than he was used to. You were actually surprised he even noticed you.

He walked closer and you shrank into your seat a little, not looking forward to a confrontation. But to your shock, he slid into the seat next to you, dropping his backpack on the floor and pulling his stuff out of it, settling into the desk as though he’d always sat there.

“What are you doing?” You blurted out.

When Oikawa turned to you, he studied you with great interest, as though you were an art piece in a museum. There was a tinge of pink on his cheeks, something he’d never had when the two of you were dating.

“Aren’t you just the cutest thing?” Oikawa crooned, reaching a hand out to your face.

You jerked away, startled and confused. What was with this sudden change in behavior?

“You know, you never really officially broke up with me,” Oikawa shrugged, a creepy, possessive grin curling across his lips, “And even if you did…”

He turned to you, eyes dark with something you couldn’t place. Something that chilled you to the bone.

��I wouldn’t accept it.”

[harlowsbby]

Snooze

“I can’t lose when I’m with you.” - Sza

“Here you go cheating again this is why I can’t play simple games like Uno with you.” You pouted and tossed down the card games while Jack laughed.

The two of you were in New York City for the weekend, Jack had a few things to take care of but by the amount of rain all of his meetings were called off for the day which you were secretly happy about because all you wanted to do was stay inside and watch endless movies with him.

“You wanna play another board game Jack? Or do you wanna do something else.” You stated as you went ahead and put back the Uno cards.

“Whatever you wanna do baby it doesn’t matter to me.” He smiled as he leaned back into the bed his chain hanged loosely on his bare chest and his gray sweats hung loosely on his waist.

“Anything?” You smirked and his eyebrow raised in confusion. “What are you planning in that head of yours?”

“What about I give you a little makeover?” You asked him and before he could say anything you were digging through your luggage for your makeup bag.

Once you found it you sat on top of him, his hands kept your steady as you placed the makeup bag beside him before getting out your tweezers and a few pimple patches and placing them on his chest.

“What’s all this?” He asked as you held up the tweezers. “These are tweezers and I’m gonna help you shape up your eyebrows a bit they look a bit wild right now.”

His eyebrows immediately furrowed together. “Uh I don’t think so baby, I’m a man I don’t need my eyebrows all shaped up and shit what do I look like?” You pouted and crossed your arms over your chest.

“You act like I’m going to fill them in I’m just plucking a few hairs at the top that have been bugging me that’s all, I’m not shaping them or anything you’ll still be looking like a damn squirrel.” You joked and he pinched your hips making you hiss.

“What was that for?” You groaned and leaned forward so you’d be able to see the hairs you needed to pluck. “For being a smart ass.” Surprisingly he was very quiet and wasn’t moaning and groaning while you were doing his eyebrows.

“Now that we’re done with that I’m gonna apply these pimple patches to a few of your friends I’ve seen growing on your face.” He gasped.

“That wasn’t very nice babe.” You shrugged your shoulders. “Oh well you’ll be fine.”

Jack watched as you stuck your tongue out due to you concentrating. He found so much joy and comfort in doing little silly things like this with you. He never thought in a million years he’d be laid up with someone as special as you.

You’re the only person he’d allow to pluck his eyebrows even though he didn’t really enjoy it or that it made him feel manly, as long as it brought you enjoyment and entertainment he’d do it a million times more.

“There you go.” You smiled and nodded in approval at the pimple patches.

“How long do these stay on my face?” He asked you. “You keep them on overnight.” You stated and the two of you sat there in a comfortable silence for a few minutes till your stomach rumbled.

“You hungry?” Jack laughed and reached out for the menu that had everything room service had to offer. “Just a little.” You mumbled shyly.

“What do you want to eat.” You took the menu out his hands. “You wanna get chicken strips and fries?” He nodded his head. “Sounds good to me baby. What are we gonna do till it gets here?”

“I can give you a little facial? With a few of my skincare products.” He nodded his head and leaned back into the pillow as you started getting your products ready.

“I’m gonna apply this green tea mask to your skin it’s supposed to clear up pores and give you glass type skin.”

“Sounds good babe.” You gently applied the mask along his cheeks, forehead and chin. “Now I’m gonna place these little under eye ask under your eyes they help with the puffiness.”

“You’re saying I got baggy eyes now? Last time I checked people giving facials didn’t point out their clients insecurities.” He joked and you slapped his chest slightly.

“Oh just hush I’m helping you get a little 24 hour glow up you should be happy I’m not charging you any interest.” He couldn’t help but to burst into a fit of laughter.

“You’re silly baby you know that.”

“Hmm whatever.” The two of you were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Room service.”

“Jack can you get the door.” His eyes widened. “Baby I’m not going up there with all of this on my face ain’t no way.” You pouted. “All I have on is these little shorts and a tank top do you really want him to see me like this.” You stated and Jack sighed.

“Fine, you’re lucky I love you.” You giggled as he stood up and made his way towards the door.

“Room service for Jack Har-.” The guy stopped talking as he did a double take on Jack. “You’re girl?” He questioned with a slight laugh.

“What gave it away.” Jack mumbled. “The heart shaped pimple patches.” He pointed out and Jack groaned but took the food and made his way back to you.

“Heart shape pimple patches really babe?” You shrugged your shoulders and snatched a fry.

“What? It’s all I had but come on let’s eat I’m starving.” You grabbed your food and started digging in.

Jack would never admit it but he liked being pampered from time to time. Even though you tended to be a pain at times he wouldn’t want his life to be any other way. He knew with you by his side he could never lose.

(Hope you guys enjoy 💘 this will be my last little fluff for a bit I need to get back to the angst sorry y’all 💀)

[mothwingwritings]

Save The Date

F!Reader X Jean Pierre Polnareff

Today is my birthday!!! Yaaay! To celebrate, I wrote this self-indulgent, out of left field, Polnareff-kidnaps-you-on-your-bday-and-tries-to-force-his-love-on-you story because why not? I’ve been wanting to write more Jojo and I love Polnareff’s himbo ass sooo here it is. :D I decided to go back to my roots with this one, it was therapeutic loool.

This was a bit rushed because I want to get it finished by today, but I hope you enjoy!!! Thank you for reading and for being here! Love y’all~ ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Warnings: Kidnapping, imprisonment, reader is restrained this whole fic, forced/nonconsensual touching and kissing, brief mentions of sex, delusional Polnareff, probably horrible butchering of French pet names (I am sorry any French speakers, forgive my google translate indiscretions (；´∀｀))

Everything was perfect.

From the varying balloons and streamers that dotted the room, to the bows he had placed so lovingly in your hair, Jean Pierre Polnareff had worked hard to make this presentation immaculate. It was what his baby deserved after all-it wasn’t like it was your birthday every day.

It took weeks of planning and organizing to get everything just right. He’d spent countless hours calling the best caterers and bakers in town, and spent all his down time consulting with party planners to make sure this soiree would go off without a hitch. He was even able to score the perfect dress for you from the fancy boutique down the street-the very same dress you had been casting wistful (yet furtive) glances at for quite some time. The moment the ornate frock had gone on sale he could barely conceal his excitement and ended up purchasing it right away. He was sure you would be thrilled to receive the gown as a gift, and also be touched by his intuitive nature, his knack for picking up on the things you desired.

It was just your style, and he knew as soon as you donned it you would look nothing short of gorgeous. Envisioning you in it made his heart flutter, the smile that would engulf your face as you twirl around in it, giggling in sheer delight as the fabric swirls prettily around you, was sure to be a sight for sore eyes. It was hard waiting to see the dream become a reality.

When he finally got the chance to slip it on your body, he needed a moment to compose himself before he proceeded with the rest of the party setup. He had been correct in his assumption-you looked breathtaking, exactly like a princess in your new frilly, satin, dress. He wished he could have arranged to also have someone do your hair and makeup to really complete the look, but it was too risky to chance it. As much as he would have loved for you to wake up to a complete makeover, he couldn’t trust anyone to not be suspicious of the arrangement he had currently setup for you, and he dared not muck you up with his own mediocre skills.

But at the same time it didn’t really matter that he couldn’t have a cosmetologist stop by, you always looked perfect and ethereal, dolled up or otherwise.

Everything was splayed out before you, not a single item out of place. The table was neatly set with his finest dishes and cutlery, set at the ready to be topped with the feast that he was preparing for you. Vibrant bouquets comprised of only the fullest and brightest blooms of your favorite flowers sat on each end of the table, and fragrant candles cast flickering light over the scene, exuding a very romantic aura. Dinner (one of your favorite meals) was nearly done cooking in the kitchen, and its scent had begun to enticingly fill the room. He could practically hear your stomach rumble in anticipation.

The centerpiece of it all was an elaborate cake, decadent and rich, your name and a sweet birthday message sprawled on its surface in a pretty, curving script. It was far too large for just two people to consume, but that just meant there would be more to look forward to in the future. Maybe you would want to freeze some of it to share with him again on your next birthday, like some couples do with their wedding cake. The correlation made him blush as he fixated on it, giddy as he fantasized about all that lay ahead for the two of you.

With everything assembled, all he had to do was wait. He parked himself opposite you at the table, dressed to the nines to try and match you. As impressive as his finely tailored suit was, he didn’t hold a candle to your radiance. He sighed dreamily as he took you in, his eyes roving over your peaceful face while slumber still claimed you. You had a habit of incessantly frowning or shooting him questionable glances while you were awake. Whenever you noticed that his attention was turned your way, a grimace inevitably followed. This moment of peace where he could drink you in without any backlash was bliss, and as much as he was excited for you to wake up, he couldn’t help but relish this serene alone time he was sharing with you.

No kicking and screaming, no crying, no unnecessarily hurtful words flung his way when all he’s trying to do is show you love. Right now there was just you, him, and this lovingly crafted display of his affection that he prepared just for you, the love of his life. A small mountain of presents towered behind him, waiting patiently to be picked open by your delicate fingers. Most of them were little things he had picked up for you here and there that he thought you would like, trinkets and baubles he felt exuded a very ‘you’ aura and thus needed to be brought home to you. He used to try and give them to you the moment he purchased them, but you would always turn them away, telling him that he was spending way too much money on you. Silly girl, no amount of currency could ever be a waste on you.

The gift pile was a veritable array of goodies sure to delight you, teeming with big things, small things, and one very important thing that had been weighing heavily in his pocket for the past week. He had always planned on presenting it to you on your birthday (there was no greater gift than a perfectly cut rock signifying your eternal union, after all), but carried it around with him as a good luck charm of sorts, keeping it near till the moment he could give it to you. He kept it in his breast pocket as close to his heart as he could, childishly hoping that the placement would infuse it with the immense love he felt for you, each heart beat coursing through it making it shine more dazzlingly.

Though he enjoyed carrying it around with him, the time was soon approaching for it to go to its intended home, sitting prettily on your ring finger. Musing on it made him glance down at your hands as they rested daintily on the chairs arm rest. He tried not to focus on the straps he had placed around your arms, holding you in place to prevent you from bolting the moment you woke up. You were such a jumpy, shy thing, inclined to run and hide the moment you spotted him. He knew this setting would be overwhelming for you, that you would not take all the extra attention so easily, hence why the sedation and extra restraints were needed. As much as he wanted to do a more natural approach, there was just no way to keep hold of you otherwise. It was a necessary measure, but it was one he hated nonetheless.   

Knowing you would be upset when you awoke filled him with dismay, but ultimately the drugs and confines were all just a means to an ends. After the initial shock wore off, you were certain to be pleased by all his effort.

Hesitantly, he reached out to grasp your hands, holding them gently in his own. His thumb slowly grazed your knuckles, tracing small circles over your soft skin. Were they not strapped down, he would have chanced giving your hand a kiss, his lips yearning to make contact with you in any way they could. It truly was a shame that you were so adverse to touch, for he constantly longed to handle you tenderly, treating you so lovingly you would become putty in his hands, melt at his ministrations. He could clearly picture the expressions you would make while he busied himself, running his fingers gingerly across your flesh, memorizing every inch of you in faithful reverence, kisses following where his fingers once tread.

It was his most avid desire, but he had yet to act on the fantasy. His dream would come true someday, but first you had to get used to him. Ease into your new life.

It was a torturous process, waiting for you to warm up, but he knew it would be worth it in the end. Besides, with how bashful you were he figured he would be your first time for so many things, and that was exhilarating in its own right.

Suddenly, you stirred. Polnareff perked up, his eyes darting to your face as he watched your own slowly blink open. You scrunched your face in discomfort, groaning as your head gradually rose from its lulled posture. The after effects of the heavy drugs made your movements sluggish and groggy, another small groan slipping past your lips as you rotated your shoulders in an attempt to stretch.

Your gaze eventually landed on Polnareff, his face lighting up when you didn’t immediately look away. Still heavily sedated, confusion dominated your features. At this point, you were unsure where you were, what was going on, and probably perplexed by Polnareff’s presence, maybe even so bewildered you didn’t yet fully remember who Polnareff was. A warm smile graced his lips as he watched you come to, your befuddled state too cute to resist.

“Ma chérie,” Polnareff purred, his voice drawing you further from your hazy state, “I’m glad you are finally awake. It wouldn’t do to have you sleep through your whole party now, would it?”

Disorientation was giving way to realization, a look of fear and agitation morphing your lax expression into a sharp scowl. You began to pull against your bindings, your tugs becoming sharper the moment   you felt resistance, alarm mounting when you realized how trapped you truly were. Your eyes locked onto Polnareff’s, the haze that had clouded them gone, replaced with resentful animosity. It was painful being at the end of your enmity, but he reminded himself it was to be expected. You would be filled with contentment very soon, he just had to get you there.

“Jean what the hell,” Your words came out listless and slurred. As the final dregs of the drugs wore off, you struggled to get your baring’s. “Where am I? What is all this? Did you… did you fucking drug me?”

 Panic was starting to course through you, wide blown eyes filling with tears that you tried desperately to blink back. Your breathing grew labored as you started to thrash, trying your hardest to free yourself from the man who had imprisoned you, despite your compromised state.

Concerned you would hurt yourself, Polnareff gripped your hands tightly to try and sooth you, but it only caused your struggling to grow in intensity. Noting this, he quickly relinquished his hold, instead opting to cup your cheeks in a manner he hoped you would find more reassuring. Your skin was moist from your freshly fallen tears, his thumb easily sliding across its delicate surface, trying to wipe them away as best he could. You attempted to recoil from his touch, but the restraints and his firm hold kept you in place.

“Please amoureuse calm down,” he shushed you, worry reflected in his eyes, “You’ll end up hurting yourself if you keep pulling like that-“

“Fuck off,” you seethed between clenched teeth, “Let me go NOW Polnareff, or I swear I’ll-“

He clamped a hand over your mouth, halting any further commentary. A deep frown etched itself into his face as he stared you down, patience waning at the immediate vehemence you directed his way. Today was not supposed to go this way, he expected some backlash sure, but you weren’t supposed to recover from the medicine he had given you so rapidly. It was supposed to take time, fester a bit so that you would slowly come around, giving him plenty of time to explain things to you and have you get used to the arrangement naturally.

All the extra precautions were to help you see this for what it was, a true celebration to exhibit his unwavering dedication to you, and not whatever horrific falsity you had concocted in your anxiety addled brain. He cursed himself for not giving you the larger dose as he originally intended, he was just so concerned you may sleep too deeply and miss out on your special day altogether.

“You need to be quiet now, (Name),” His voice was low, a serious edge to it that froze your thrashing, granting him your full regard, “I know you are upset and confused, it’s only natural with how you woke up, and I don’t blame you for it. But there is no need for your ire ma cherie, look around you,” he released his hold, sweeping his hand across the room to show off his handiwork, “This is all for you bella. I worked so hard to make everything perfect for you because you deserve nothing less. Each decoration, accessory, snack, present-they were all assembled lovingly with you in mind. I’ve been preparing this for months, so please don’t be-“

“I don’t want any of this,” you once more cut him off, your voice choppy as you forced it out through shaky sobs, “I never wanted any of this. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t feel for you this way Polnareff? What you are doing is wrong, this entire ‘party’ is wrong! Please, if you really care about me at all just let me go and-“

Swiftly, he slammed his hand down on the table before you, rattling the dishes so violently it was surprising that none of them broke. Startled by the sudden upset, you lurched in your restraints, instantly shutting up out of fear. Your body quivered in distress, worried that if you said another word it would only further enrage him, and the assault next go around may not stop at just a whacked table.

“Stop it,” He annunciated each word, his eyes holding a sharpness that sent chills down your spine, “You don’t know what you are saying mon cœur, you are just blindly judging things before you even try them.” He took a shaky breath before continuing, “I have been patient, I have been kind, I have given you nothing but love, yet you constantly keep me at arm’s length, turning away from me in disgust even though I worship the ground you walk on. Please for one minute stop being so damn ungrateful and just be satisfied with all the hard work I have put in to meeting your lofty, unreasonable standards, or else you may actually have something to cry about.”

Tears continued to pour down your cheeks as your panic-stricken eyes drank him in. Your bottom lip quivered, sniffles punctuating your breathing, but you didn’t speak another word. He felt momentarily guilty for going off on you (on your birthday, no less), but seeing the success his rare instance of harshness awarded him quickly overshadowed any negativity he felt, instead washing him in a feeling of victory.

Now that he got his point across, hopefully you could proceed as planned and things would be smooth sailing from here on out.

In the other room the oven started to noisily beep, signaling that dinner was ready to be served. He rose to his feet, hovering over you before making his way towards the kitchen.

“Ah, perfect timing,” he forced a smile, doing his best to hide the hurt your brusque behavior had inflicted upon him. He squared his shoulders, composing himself before continuing. “Here is how the night will progress, amour. I will prepare our meals and then we will enjoy them peacefully in each other’s company. Once we are done, we can dig into this cake I ordered especially for you from the gourmet bakery down the street, the one that’s so popular it has a wait list.”

He sighed dejectedly, hanging his head in defeat before continuing, “You may not care, but I think it’s important that you take into consideration just how much of myself I poured into this celebration before you make another snide, thoughtless remark.”

His eyes flicked down to the cake, a brief look of sadness wavering within them before he directed his attention back your way. “It’s lovely though, isn’t it? I am sure it will taste just as good. Don’t worry, if you haven’t calmed yourself in time to be let loose I will gladly feed you chérie. Even when you are being particularly… bratty, I would not want you to miss out on such a delicacy. Then, once our bellies are full you can start unwrapping this mound of presents behind me, and we will just pray that it doesn’t take us through the entire night.”

He chuckled, his demeanor beginning to soften as he spoke, appreciative of the obedience you were displaying and the lack of unwarranted commentary as he got through the itinerary for the night. “Finally, we will end the party with a gift that has been a long time coming, one that is a truly significant mark of our eternal bond. I know you will love it ma chérie, just as much as I will.”

He saw a shiver course through you at his words, a small, sad whimper tumbling from your lips as your shoulders sagged. The gravity of his allusion bore down on your small frame, shrinking you down in a poor attempt at hiding from your inescapable fate. He tutted when he saw your attitude shift, his hand again finding your cheek to give it a gentle stroke. This time, you didn’t flinch away. 

“I know this is a lot to take in ma beauté and I am sorry it frightened you at first,” he leaned down, planting a lingering kiss to your forehead before proceeding, “But you will come around very soon, I know you will. You are my sweet girl, and after you experience what a great time we are about to have you will be so overcome with joy that you will barely be able to stand it. In fact, you may already feel a little silly for giving me such a hard time, am I right?”

Suddenly, his expression turned bashful. A rosy hue illuminated his cheeks as he started to fidget uncomfortably, a slightly embarrassed looking smile gracing his lips. Your body turned cold as his hand slid from your cheek to your shoulder, idly toying with the thin strap of your dress. His roving eyes fell to your chest, a hungry look flashing through them before they found their way back to your gaze.

“And then, after you have finished going through all your gifts, to thank me for what a gracious lover I have been maybe… maybe I can unwrap something too?”

You shudder at his insinuation, a look of pure dread donning your features.

“Polnareff,” you choked out, strained words struggling to form one final, soft plea, “please.”

Before you could utter another word, his mouth aggressively claimed your own. He pressed hard against you, as if to engrain the scorching feeling of his lips on to your flesh. You whined, squirming against him until he pulled away, staring at you with longing, love struck eyes.

“Happy birthday, ma chérie. Let’s make this one to remember.”

[goblin-iz-whack]

Terri Pines

(Picrew by @potatolordofficial, hand drawn art by myself)

Yup, I made a Gravity Falls oc.

Teresa Ann "Terri" Pines (Née Ross) was born on February 14th, 1954 to Virginia and Howard Ross in Newark, New Jersey. She was the middle child and only girl of five children (Her brothers are Warren, Clarence, Leroy, and Seymour).

She was a pageant girl, her family lived pretty much solely off of the prize money she won.

She went to school for cosmetology in '72 (Her parents were not thrilled, they expected her to find a rich bachelor instead) and graduated in 1973 (Apparently, cosmetology school programs are pretty short!) . The money she earned doing what she loved wasn't good enough for her family and so she left home in 1974.

She drifted around, using her looks and charms to steal and con people, and met Stanley Pines in 1980. He was getting hassled by the police and she was like "Guess I'll use up my one good deed for the year" and helped out by pretending to be his wife ("Oh, honey, I've been looking for you everywhere! Sorry 'bout that, officer-"), and he evaded arrest.

Seeing her con artist ways and good looks, Stan was convinced that this was his dream woman- He tried to woo her for a bit, but she wasn't interested.

Because she's gay.

Even so, the convenience of having somebody that you can pretend is your partner worked for both of them, so they just went with it and slummed around the U.S., cartels and scams galore, what a wild ride.

Stuff went downhill, they were out of money and cons, when they were contacted by Stanford Pines.

You know the story from here.

Terri was kinda just waiting in the car when the portal incident happened, Stan came outside looking like he wanted to vomit and explained (through a very shaky voice) what happened.

They hid out in the house before running out of food, yada yada, Lazy Susan's eye is zapped, Stan takes Ford's name, fakes his death, you know what happens. Terri knows about the portal and all of Stan's secrets, she's his confidant and best friend.

In 1985, Stan and Terri got married. Partially because of the tax benefits, partially because they wanted the money and gifts that came with a wedding (Also, marital law says you can't be forced to testify against your spouse. Convenient!). Caryn Pines came to the wedding but Filbrick didn't (Fuck you, Filbrick). Terri's family also came but left pretty fast when they didn't get a hand out.

In 2013, Dipper and Mabel came to Gravity Falls. Terri is their Grauntie, she loves those kids. She also takes a motherly role towards Wendy, despite being pretty different in personality.

Terri is very similar to Stan, rough around the edges and always looking to make a buck, this is why he thought he was in love with her lol. She is a beauty queen, her pageant roots and love for cosmetology has always influenced her significantly. She is desperately trying to stall the effects of age (Hard to do that since she's 60 during the show), hence the spray tan and makeup and the hair dye. She also wears a corset (ooh la la!) and likes to join in on makeovers with Mabel and her friends.

She's also pretty badass- She has a lipstick taser and packs a mean punch. Being on the streets for so long has left her rugged and a bit grizzled and we love her for it.

A very motherly lady, she always wanted children of her own but the time was never right (Stan wouldn't mind being a donor, so long as he gets to skip out on any child support-). Wendy and the mystery twins fill that gap, she gets to mother them to her hearts content.

I will write up some unique episodes that center on her eventually, but it's 1 am rn and I need to get this done-

In Roadside Attraction, Terri flirts with Darlene alongside Stan. She's chill when Darlene only responds to Stan, she's a good wingwoman. It's also implied at some point that she went out with Lazy Susan before.

She was arrested alongside Stan in Not What He Seems, and escaped alongside him, also trying to stop Mabel from pressing the button.

Okay now here is where I deviate from canon pretty majorly-

So, I guess you'd say that Terri's whole existence in itself is an au. At first glance, the only difference would be her being there and extra interactions. That'd be wrong-

I know that the tweet about Ford being transfem was fake, but I still really love the headcanon. I headcanon Dipper as being transmasc and Ford being transfem would further the parallels between them without just making them a copy of each other.

So yeah, Ford is transfem here. She discovered it in the portal ("The author of the journals...my...sister??"). She chooses the name Nicole, after Nikola Tesla.

Back to Terri and how she changes the series!!

Mabel and Dipper are pretty shocked that she knew everything, they're definitely mad as well. This is also the reveal that Stan and Terri are only really married for legal reasons.

Here's that reveal, written out:

Stan: -and then me and Terri got married. But we're just friends with benefits.

Dipper and Mabel: *Disgust*

Terri: What? The tax benefits! Duh!

Nicole addresses her briefly but the rest of the episode pretty much goes on as normal except for the ending, Nicole and Stan would both mention her.

"Okay, Stanley, here's the deal. You and Terri can stay here for the summer to watch the kids. I'll stay down in the basement and try to contain any remaining damage. But when the summer's over, you give me my house back, you give me my name back, your wife and I divorce, and this Mystery Shack junk is over forever. You got it?"

"You really aren't gonna thank me, are you? Fine. On one condition: you stay away from the kids and Terri; I don't want them in danger. Cause as far as I'm concerned, they're the only family I have left."

Well, Nicole didn't listen because she and Terri get together (I call it "Terrole" hehe). I don't have their whole romance written out, but Nicole has no clue how to date and tries to woo her with stuff she learned in other dimensions. Hilarity and cuteness ensues. And hey, legally Terri is married to Nicole anyways, so it would work out in the end! Yeah, Stan isn't a fan of all this-

Weirdmageddon goes down, she hides in the Mystery Shack with Stan. She's pretty damn worried about Nicole. She's part of the zodiac, her symbol is lipstick. Blah blah blah, she gets turned into tapestry like the others and then everything goes on as usual. She joins Stan and Nicole in their adventures.

Boy that took ages to write. It was fun though! And I hope you guys like Terri as much as I do!

(My dear friends @ghosty-seapancake and @i-overanalyze-musicals helped loads with creating Terri! So much love to them! The timeline I referenced is by @fordtato so lots of love to them as well!!!)

[nqctar]

we need more cg!sohee 🥲🥲 literally anything with cg!sohee and little!reader,, specifically like full story rather than just headcanons ykwim? 😅😅💕 thank you 😊🙌

facepainting and other disasters

이소희 / lee sohee ★

pairings: cg! sohee x f!little reader. genre: sfw age regression, fluff/slight angst. warnings: nonsexual usage of 'daddy.’ no major warnings apply.

dni: if you sexualize little space. summary: when unsuspecting sohee falls asleep on the couch, his little decides that it's time for a makeover.

you sat on the living room floor, colouring and playing quietly as possible so that you don't wake sohee. he’d fallen asleep over an hour ago, sleepily telling you to wake him up if you needed anything before drifting off.

however, you fought the urge to violently shake him and then ask to play “makeup” it was your favourite activity, but definitely not sohee’s. he absolutely hated how difficult it was to remove afterward and would spend an hour nagging you about why he’s “never going to let you do his makeup ever again.”

yet every time you ask, he painstakingly obliges. and to your little space brain, that means he absolutely loves having his makeup done.

you peek over at sohee who’s sleeping peacefully and completely unaware of what you’re currently planning. an idea pops into your head and you giggle quietly to not wake him.

if sohee loves getting his makeup done so much, you’re sure he won’t mind you doing it while he’s asleep!

quietly, you tip toe away from the living room and into your bathroom where you keep all of your makeup/face paint supplies. after staring at everything for a couple minutes you decide to grab all of it and run back to the couch.

sohee’s light snores told you he was still fast asleep and luckily for you, he could sleep through the sound of a building being demolished.

“i’m sure daddy won’t mind…” you whisper to yourself as you grab an assortment of face paint colours, planning to make sohee look like one of the clowns you’d seen at disney world months ago.

you furrow your eyebrows in concentration and waste no time drawing all over his face, only backing up whenever he’d move or make a noise. “almost done! he’s gonna love it so much!” you giggle to yourself again, adding a few finishing touches.

by the end of it sohee looked interesting to say the least. white makeup extended down to his neck, and a rainbow of colours outlined his mouth and eyes. it would’ve scared the life out of anyone who walked through your front door, but to you it was a masterpiece.

sohee stirs around on the couch before sitting up and rubbing his eyes, somehow missing the amount of white paint coming off on his hands. he looks over at you and smiles, running his fingers through your hair and leaving a streak of paint behind.

you try your best to not laugh, but sohee looked absolutely silly right now. he raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “what did you do?”

“absolutely nothing! i just played and coloured.” not believing you one bit, sohee mumbles out a “sure.” and walks away, still mumbling to himself about what you could’ve done while he was asleep.

you go back to playing and wait for sohee to discover the “beautiful” face painting you gave him while he was sleeping.

while playing, you hear a faint scream in the distance.

“daddy must’ve seen my art!” you run over to him and give sohee a toothy grin once he looks at you, completely mortified at the clown makeup.

“y/n, baby, what did you do to me?”

“i made daddy into a clown!” sohee starts to rub the paint off with his hands, though it only leaves them coated in white and red. “i can see that very clearly. but why?!”

“umm…” you trail off, unable to give any explanation besides “cause i wanted to.” which you knew sohee wouldn’t accept as an answer.

“why didn’t you wake me up and ask if i wanted my face painted?” you pout and look away.

sohee didn’t seem as happy with your artwork as you thought, and now you’re beginning to regret having the idea in the first place.

“i thought daddy would like it.” sohee starts wiping his face with a towel. just as he’s about to scold you for lathering his face with pore-clogging paint, he hears you begin to sniffle.

“aw baby, you don’t have to cry. daddy isn’t upset. you just have to tell me the next time you want to do my makeup. even if i’m sleeping, okay?” he pulls you into a hug and winces when he sees the amount of green paint in your hair. “sorry, daddy.” you respond, still feeling upset.

sohee holds in a shriek once he notices the paint still all over your hands now ruining his favourite shirt. “it’s okay, little one.”

“just help me get this off, okay? y’know, seunghan is coming over tomorrow. i’m sure he’d love it if you did his makeup too.”

your face lights up as you imagine all the ways you’d draw on seunghan, giggling and bouncing when you settle on making him into a lion.

“m’ gonna make seunghannie a lion!”

“he’s gonna be so excited, baby.” sohee says, hiding his smirk with a face towel.

[sofiadragon]

I love your hp fashion post! I have a question: what do you think is popular for teenager girls/young women to wear in the 90s? How does it differ from muggles? Would they have incorporate muggle fashion trends into their outfits? And is that a thing you would usually see younger wizards doing?

Thank you!

Ok, this requires me to sit at my PC to type. Got me out of bed and off my phone to make tea and type while I'm sick.

Obligatory link to the post in question.

Fashion is Political

Fashion in the 70's, 80's, and 90's was hugely political both in the UK and USA. Goths, punks, preps... It was an entire identity. I didn't paint my nails black, dye my brown hair with translucent red or purple highligts, and wear mesh layers just for the aesthetic, it was an entire philosophy that had political, moral, and social ideas baked into the culture those clothes represented. When I wore a yellow sundress, a hat that hid the highlights, and stripped the color from my nails to visit certain relatives it was because that was a Sundown Town and the ideas represented by the counter-culture I belonged to very well could get me hurt when walking around alone. Yes, I look entirely white (got some Japanese but so far back it doesn't show, and I'm basically French and Bulgarian) but that kind of conservatism didn't (and still doesn't) take kindly to those who support the queers, freaks, and weirdos.

And it's still true, if not quite as much as it used to be. Social cliques still dress alike, but it isn't as quietly political the same way it was then. People don't seem to associate fashion with a political statement using style as much as they use modesty and cleanliness, but it could be that I've just become Officially Old now that I've got a stripe of white in my hair. It seems a bit more on the nose these days, or more accurately on the head. I have a lovely bright red knit newsboy hat I had to stop wearing around 2016-17.

Yeah, but so what?

Fashion changes over time, so let's start with some 1970's makeovers and work our way to the 90's!

The Marauders Prequel: Kinktomato, and all the similar disclaimers, but I respectfully disagree entirely with giving Sirius, James, or any of the other marauders a Punk aesthetic. Sorry JKR, but what you have James and Sirius wear in your prequel needs a tweak. Sure, they wanted to fight against 'traditionalists' which sounds like it's punk... until you realize that the Light was the status quo before Tom came to power. The Order of the Phoenix is a vigilante group working to protect the Establishment and prevent change. Yes, realizing that while reading the 7th book hurt me in my heart too.

I have to throw JKR a bone about her recent nonsense, but she's right in the manner of a broken clock that the rebellious counter-culture going on in the Wizarding World was being backed by the Traditional Family Values set. The politics in the Wizarding World do not match up well with the real world, mostly because if you think too much about it the political aims of the Death Eaters implode. For blood purity, leader is a half-blood who hates the rich and treats the high society types with deep contempt; were not in power and had to have a guerrilla movement, members included half the House of Lords. You can't square those circles, so we get the Light Preppy types like the Marauders and the Dark Preppy types like Draco Malfoy, and then we have the punks and the goths who are the outcasts and queers that get indoctrinated into one or the other set. Don't blame me, I didn't write the books.

The Marauders should look a bit like The Monkees.

James and Sirius were not in with the queers and freaks, they did not read dark poetry in black clothing with sharp lines and heavy makeup that obscured bruises, they were Preppy Jocks and bullies picking on the outsiders. Remus Lupin might be 'one of the good people' who got wizard AIDS, but he's at best masking to fit in with a powerful social group for protection. The black leather with the rocker band t-shirts look? No, no. Put that boy in a polo shirt and chinos. Give him a cable-knit sweater or a blazer over a robe. (And many people do give these things to Professor Lupin, but I mean from the jump.) They'd all be clean-cut, perfectly groomed, and wearing light colors because their political movement is literally called The Light. Black T-shirts with a phoenix on them? No ma'am. White or yellow shirt, embroidered (or screen print to look like embroidery) phoenix. Yellow blazer jacket on top with creamy muggle trousers in a high-water boot cut to show off expensive white or tan boots. (The high-water boot cut on the trousers are muggle 1960's, but wizards lag behind on muggle trends.)

Moving on to the Dark Side

Snape's our punk, or maybe a broody goth gremlin reading poetry books. All via thrift-shop [charity shop] finds, of course. The set of upper-class future Death Eaters he eventually starts to hang out with would have started out in clean-cut expensive dark-colored robes, but might have embraced a morbid aesthetic, as we see Bellatrix wear in the movies. This would be a case of convergent evolution in a sense.

Snape dressed like that due to the poverty and muggle influences in his life, and I headcanon that he liked to visit a record shop and stim his autistic brain with niche experimental music just like I used to at that age, but the morbid and shocking aspects of Goth or Punk aesthetics parallel with Voledmort's completely unrelated skull and snake symbol inspiring trends among his more loyal followers, who are rich enough to be trend setters and social influencers.

Snape very well might have made friends with those awful boys because they liked the casual clothes he started to wear on weekends once his mum started tossing some money at him and telling him to get his own shopping done so she could get back to her crossword puzzle (or maybe he got a summer job at a bakery.) Snape chose that look because if he's styled punk (violent) or goth (morbid) the rips his father puts in his clothes when he gets tossed around are there on purpose and it's just a nice coincidence that the stains in the second-hand clothes he gets on clearance at the charity shop get hidden by the cheap black dye he uses to get that grey and black look. This way, it is not just because he can't afford better and washes both himself and his clothing in the same portable tin washtub.

This convergence was accidental, but the artfully tattered cloaks and general look of the Death Eaters in the movies is something I can get behind - minus the Victorian trousers on the men, of course. The movies make the clothes way too muggle especially for the pure-blood set! Regulus Black spent nearly a hundred galleons getting a robe made of the finest linen and fur, snipped and cut so artfully to look like it was moth-eaten and torn even though every edge is properly hemmed and trimmed with a bit of lace that merely looks like a frayed edge.

Then Voldemort got Blown up

Look, the actress has red hair and a preppy lavender top - it's too perfect a reference image for Lily Potter nee Evans in a fashion post.

The morbid aesthetic that was so popular in the late 70's doesn't just go out of fashion, it is jettisoned like the toothbrush mustache. Yeeted from a seaside cliff. Dropped in a ditch full of burning petrol. Abandoned at the side of the road in a bag. Morbid? Don't know her.

Draco Malfoy, as I earlier teased, wears the fashion of the Dark upper class. Flowing perfectly tailored robes with a rope belt. Crisp and clean lines, no jagged edges or anything to even suggest aggression. 90's pure-blood fashion is soft. For the girls, more color, but we are going to backpedal so hard nobody will ever think we were associated with that guy we don't name. Draco Malfoy's non-uniform robes are like spun clouds, opulent and decadent in beautiful pristine velvet, shining satin, and resplendent metallic embroidery. While Snape and the generation of men older than him now wear waistcoats over their robes to look proper and all buttoned up, Draco's set is all about looking sleek, clean, and comfortably ready for a dramatic breeze. I don't think there is a large difference between what boys and girls wear, the gendering is all in the accessories and embellishments. Lace for girls, metallic piping for boys.

I'm talking flowy, I'm feeling swishy, I'm saying that 'looks like a dress' was a completely fair take from Harry's perspective. Yes the above characters are female and Frieren herself wears a lot of white, but you get the idea. The Dark Lord is dead, we need a rebrand yesterday. More lighter colors even for Dark-aligned [read:Tory, Conservative] families. No evil here! Nope, nope nope.

Harry is a Self-fulfilling Prophesy in More Ways than One

Harry accidentally has a hand in this trend in his earlier years, since he is wearing Dudley's castoffs and he's incredibly famous. Baggy is in! Just relax, chill, be comfortable. Dress like you just don't care what you look like. (You know, pandemic style.) He wears jeans, and probably most of his bottoms are jeans. They are one of the most durable things any boy Dudley's age would wear, and so wouldn't be as destroyed as the rest of his wardrobe by the time Harry got his hands on it no matter how hard Duds is on the trendy fast fashion clothing Petunia buys him. Petunia, a social climber, is set on making sure her family looks like the next rung up on the social ladder after all.

Later, when we can assume Harry has bought at least one wizard outfit that isn't his school uniform if he's got enough money on hand to buy Omnoculars, he's probably taken his fashion cues from himself indirectly. He likely gets his advice from Hermione and Ron, who get their fashion sense from looking at their peers, who get their fashion sense from... the trend of super casual heavily muggle-influenced baggy clothing in mismatched colors that Harry started as a first year.

Bit harder to find male examples than female ones, but that's fashion gifs on Tumblr.

Shorter robes with jeans underneath - or knee-high socks or dhoti style trousers in blue heather fabric that look like jeans provided you have never seen jeans before in your life. Open, short robes over closed-front ones, aping an overlarge muggle jacket over a robe. Floppy shapeless clothes held on with an overlarge leather belt. Squashy hand-knit jumpers. Girls in the Lighter political side also take cues from muggle women's fashion, which is more form-fitting than traditional wixan wear and shows off the legs. In the muggle world, this is the time of the babydoll dress, slim-cut trousers/jeans, and tightly tailored suit skirts for women.

Imagine way, way, way more gold embroidery on the above dresses.

And, because I can, because it's headcanon time, 90's Indian/ Bollywood fashion influence on the Light side after James Potter is martyred because #Indian Harry Potter is real and I love him. Music, clothing, art, it is in style among those who honor James and Lily's sacrifice. Harry's green eyes looks so bright next to chestnut brown skin. He can speak to snakes because his ancestry includes a bit of naga blood, not because of the Horcrux. Petunia certainly never taught him about it, and he's confused when an especially devoted fan sends him blessings addressed to Hindu gods instead of the Christian or pagan ones he hears about more often at Hogwarts. One of the Patil twins asks him what's wrong with him expecting, from his attitude and excitement about Christmas, that he's a devout Christian who hates his dark skin. Then they monopolize some of the time he's not teaching the D.A. or in detention to Educate That Boy.

[cemetery-sunset]

🐔Bubba Sawyer Headcanons #1

Main Masterlist

Texas Chain Saw Massacre Masterlist

550 words

He loves Sissy so much! They both love doing makeovers. Sissy is one of the few that treat Bubba like a person and not a monster. She likes doing his makeup and he likes feeling pretty. Sometimes, he will even do HER hair and makeup, though it’s not very good, his effort is there! 

Bubba always goes to Sissy with flowers. Sometimes he wants her to teach him about the plant itself, sometimes he just wants her to make him one of her pretty flower crowns. He goes to her for anything related to his clothes too, like if they need repairing or if he wants to make something new. 

Bubba is actually partially verbal. He doesn’t communicate with words specifically but he can be VERY vocal when he wants to be. Sometimes it sounds like real words but his voice is so garbled, it’s difficult to understand most of the time. May not be vocal all the time but he’s very noisy. 

His main mask isn’t just one yellowish color. He has bits and pieces sewn on from various people, so the skin color ranges from extra pale to pale brown (obviously the colors are all muted because the blood has drained and it’s just leather now).

His own skin color is confusing. His face is pale because it’s always hidden by the mask, so the only areas that get sunlight on them are his eyes and mouth, so they’re a little darker than the rest of his face. Bubba has the worst farmer’s tan, his arms are tan from working outside but the rest of his body is pale because he doesn’t wear shorts or ever go shirtless. He’s a mess (/affectionate). 

He doesn’t have a bedroom in the Big House, or in Nancy’s, or anywhere else. His ‘room’ is in the basement. His whole space is down there. Drayton forced him to stay down there growing up and that’s just where he stayed. He eventually took over a certain section of the basement, away from his “lair”, for his actual room and sleeping time. He made his own decorations and trinkets to fill his space. Bubba has a pathetic excuse for an old mattress on the ground, he doesn’t even have a bed frame though. 

Before Nancy and Sissy showed up, Bubba was treated as the “woman” of the house. because of his interest in makeup and looking pretty, and his nature to be a little more kindhearted and pure. He did most of the cleaning and even helped with cooking (and by ‘helped’ that means Drayton would yell directions at him and smack him if he did something wrong). He likes wearing his apron and ‘Old Lady’ outfit because it makes him feel nice and pretty, he just doesn’t like that every time he wears it, Drayton ends up more cruel than normal. 

Bubba is personal friends with all the chickens on their property. He is aware that some are raised purely for their meat and Bubba will probably be the one forced to kill and pluck the bird, but he likes having simple friends that don’t hit him and yell at him. He has to be careful though, he doesn’t know his own strength and has accidentally broken wings, and killed chickens, in the past.

[alex0fan]

Can I have a Wally x reader request where the reader is a puppeteer in disguise and lives amongst them as a fake puppet and Wally finds out about this truth?

Wally darling x puppet master!

Reader - reader

-he/him for Wally

-they/them for Frank Frankly

-requested

You open your eyes and blink a few times, blinded by the bright light. You look around and feel a surge of panic. Where the hell are you? This was your bedroom, but the walls are not white, the floor is not carpeted, the ceiling is not plain. This is your house, but clearly different. The furniture is not modern, the TV is not flat, the phone is cordless. This is not your world. The toys are not electronic, the books are not realistic, the posters are gone.... You are in a room that looks like it belongs to a children’s show....the old welcome home show you once worked on.... The air smells like candy and flowers, making you nauseous. The window has curtains that have smiling suns and clouds on them, mocking you. "What kind of sick joke is this?" you mutter to yourself as you get out of the bed, you peeked outside and saw one of the old puppets walking down the street you remember your colleague used to work on creating him...what was going on? You walk over to the mirror on the wall and stare at the mirror that is covered with stickers of stars and hearts. It shows your face, real face you weren't a puppet like the man. You knew you'd look odd if you didn't....maybe it's time for a new makeover.... ----- You look at your new self, your face shows your face, but it doesn't look like yours. Your hair is a different color, a bright red that glows in the light. Your eyes are that sparkling blue. Your skin is a different tone, a lemon yellow that contrasts with everything else. You look like a cartoon character, not a human being. Good.... You notice a display of makeup in a box next to the mirror. They look like products found in the 80's. You feel a surge of curiosity and excitement. Maybe you can use the makeup to help make you look more like a puppet. Then you turn to the closet and cringe at the sight of the clothes. They look like outfits from 80s movies, not clothes from a closet. You see a denim jacket with a graphic tee, a dress with boots, a pair of high-waisted jeans with a sweater. You see a pair of white sneakers and a pair of ankle boots. You see a bunch of headbands, earrings, and necklaces and rings. After that your memories come back to you of this old show, you remember the main character Wally darling and how much fun if was to create him, you remember Frank Frankly and Eddie Dear, and how you always thought what if they were together as a couple and the other puppets Your head started to buzz with questions all wanting to be answered but you knew you had to be smart, and get into character. Once you were you decided to look around and meet your new neighbours.  And the first man you ran into was one and only Wally Darling himself and instantly you started talking, he seemed to be interested in you, but it was hard work staying in character, especially when you met Frank, they seem so grumpy, maybe they were having a bad day, but Wally introduced you to everyone but you could always feel someone watching you....watching you.... So you and Wally become friends and he trusts you a lot, and so do you others except Frank....you worry that they can tell your not a real puppet, but they don't have proof, right? Well, that got answered very quickly....they could tell....and everyone found out. At first Wally thought it was a joke and still stayed as friends but one early morning Wally knocked on your front door, without even realizing what you were doing or anything you opened the door and it wasn't till he looked wide eyes at you, you realized why, you didn't look like a puppet, you didn't have your puppet disguise on and he realized almost immediately that you werent like him... You instantly tried to explain to him, and tell him you didn't mean any harm, you weren't gonna to do anything to him or the others, explaining what happened and why you did this, all Wally could do was stare at you. Then it went all black...

(Sorry it's terrible)

[greyskyflowers]

I have this half idea in my head and I'm going to word barf if here so maybe it inspires someone instead of living in my head. And this is a weird one because I just wanted to focus I guess on consent and how it might play a part in different plot ideas.

How doing something on your terms is different than doing it on someone else's, no matter what the intention.

I did a post a long time ago with a similar idea for Hawks (mha) and having fans touch his wings vs having friends or a significant other.

⚠️This might be all over the place but I swear it all comes together in the end. ⚠️

Recently I had a post where I discussed Zoro and the crew basically keeping their vulnerabilities to themselves. Sure, everyone has seen them cry or bleed at some point but the real, gritty stuff is kept to themselves. Not out of shame, but love. Only they get to see each other truly weak or broken. And this kind of goes with that idea.

I wanted to kind of focus on consent with this idea, on allowing someone to see you when you aren't comfortable.

It can be such a honor to see someone when they don't want to be seen, they they trust you to love them when they don't see themselves as loveable.

Zoro is a proud guy. He's strong, talented, usually very likable, attractive, etc He's also half naked in basically every battle and all the good stuff like that. But that's a choice.

I think it's different to be bare when you're fighting, when people look at you with fear and respect, or when blood provides a barrier between your skin and the world.

I also think Zoro is a pretty dude. Fight me about it. He's built like a brick shit house and I think he'd be beautiful with some eyeliner. I've also written posts about Zoro being beautiful in all the ways humans are. In the way he laughs, the ways his muscles move, the way he looks at the crew, etc.

Let people be beautiful and bloodthirsty, you cowards.

People have to know Zoro is attractive by now. So what do people do when they think someone is attractive and not living up to their full potential? They have makeovers, the ugly girl has a girls night with the cheerleader and comes back to school dolled up and stunning. The ugly duckling blossoms into a beautiful swan. The guy in the gas station tells you that you'd be prettier if you smiled. The old woman next door tells you that you'd be so much prettier if you stopped dying your hair blue and took off all that makeup.

Garbage.

Now, on to the actual fic idea.

I think this specific idea came from the concept of people just adoring Luffy. People are going to and/or already do fucking worship Luffy, take your pick for why. And it makes sense that someone they worship should be surrounded by beautiful things.

Somehow that leads a group/cult/whatever to the brilliant idea of taking Zoro and trying to surprise Luffy.

Which, nooo.

You could argue the group who takes Zoro mean well, they just think that the Sun god should have someone dressed like sun next to them. It makes sense, okay?

A bloody, demon next to the Sun god just isn't the right vibe. Plus they keep hearing the swordsman is kind of attractive, so really this is basically them helping.

They kidnapped Zoro, which is as impressive as it is concerning, and when the strawhats come for Zoro, they are presented a crewmate worthy of a sun god. At least, according to the people stupid enough to take Zoro from them.

So in reality the groups/cult/whatever present, complete with *jazz hands* and eager excitement, a very ruffled and upset Zoro.

They talk nonstop the entire time. Praises and stories, how devoted they are, how much they love Luffy, why they did all this, all the stuff creepy cults say to supposedly show devotion.

So I picture Zoro way over the top, a tribute to a beloved god after all.

He's clean, a vast amount of tan skin bared and shimmering, and a silver eye narrowed. All while drapped in gold jewelry and accessories.

There's gold bands around his wrists and wrapped around his upper arms. Thin gold chains around his neck of different lengths and types. He's barefoot with ankle bracelets covering his scars

Rings on all fingers. Earrings and ear cuffs in white and gold.

Gold dusted on his cheeks and around his eyes. The barest of black swiped under his eyes, even the closed one. Lips stained just a little darker, like wine

Drapped in white, cream and gold fabrics. Thin gold chains around his waist to help hold the fabric he's wearing.

Every scar visible is painted in with gold.

His chest looks like the dawn breaking the horizon and the scar over his eye looks like it will start dripping sunbeams down his cheek

And really the main question here is, how can anyone possibly look at Zoro and not think he clearly belongs to Luffy?

Every scar now highlighted in gold, every tic of his jaw where he makes himself behave because they're still looking at him and he can tell they're unsure.

That all belongs to them, to Luffy.

Everything on him is a devotional to the crew.

He could be buried in heavy shadows and dark soil, but the sun would still find him. It's in his blood, carved into his skin, and kept close to his heart and loved like his swords. Even if Luffy left a visible mark on Zoro's skin, there wouldn't be a ink in the world dark enough to cover it.

Zoro's ready to rip it all off, even starts breaking some of the thinner chains and handing them to Nami and grumbling about his debt.

There's a slightly franticness to his movements though. A wild look in his eye that you'd only notice if you knew him like they do.

He wipes at his face and it smears the gold like a big brush stroke, hands now golden and leaving trails over his skin as he tries to get everything off. Broken necklaces tangle around his neck from where he snapped them but it's all weaved together, so they just hang there.

He manages to get all the earrings off except his, which chime angrily as he keeps trying to get everything off. Paint flakes on his scars as he moves, the silver, white of the older ones and the raised, pink of the new ones are more edged in gold than covered in it.

The cloth he was drapped in has slipped, barely hanging on around his hips and caught on one of the belt like chains, and it softens the drop to the floor for all the golden things Zoro doesn't give to Nami or the others.

Luffy is actually quiet but uses careful, callused hands to help unhook all the jewelry from his swordsman.

Usopp using his sharp eyes to quickly untangle anything that wouldn't come off quickly.

Franky and Robin offer additional hands when Nami's get full, fully intent of taking compensation from anyone causing their crew so much trouble.

Chopper carefully works his way around Zoro looking for bruises or wounds, he talks nervously the whole time.

Sanji, Jinbei, and Brook are keeping an eye out anyone stupid enough to approach them.

This is a different type of vulnerable than they're use to, but it's still something that makes them all anxious.

Luffy has a face on that doesn't speak of good things to come for anyone involved and it seems like the people responsible have finally caught on. They whisper amoung themselves but the crew only focuses on how Zoro's breathing gets easier with all the things they get off him.

His back is bare of gold when he turns. No scars to paint gold, no perceived flaws to cover. It's such a stark contrast to the rest of his body that it takes a moment to process.

Honestly, it might be what finally snapped the crew into baring teeth and drawing blood. The vulnerably. The familiar broad back in front of them like it was ready to take another blow so they wouldn't have to. Clear of scars, no wounds of shame, not that anything on Zoro could be shameful.

It was just clean skin, warm, alive, and all Zoro. Nothing else.

And their swordman was uncomfortable. He was trembling just the smallest bit in a way he never did unless he was losing too much blood. His pupil blown when he managed to make eye contact with one of them. Nails catching on skin in a desperate attempt to get everything off that made blood raise up and bead along the vivid scratches.

I think Luffy would figure it out first, he'd know immediately.

Nami and Robin next though. They've seen that wild, desperate desire to get someone eyes off, they've worn that look themselves before.

The rest catch on quickly. They're carry too much of each other to not realize what's happening.

And the truth is, Zoro is very eye-catching. And they'll carefully let him know that later, when he's back safe on the ship with them and only their eyes to look at him, only their attention to worry about. When it's clear that it's a compliment given from love and not something taken for desire.

But Zoro's the most stunning when he's comfortable. Especially when he curls his lips back in a snarl and he looks like their Zoro.

When he gets his swords back and wears blood and gold equally on his skin. He looks like someone worthy of a king and it's just another thing that solidifies that he belongs to Luffy and the crew.

Do I think Zoro would wear this for the crew if they ever asked? Yes.

Would he like the attention? Yes.

Because he's decided to be vulnerable for them and only them.

Weeeee consenting poly strawhat vibes for the win with this one.

[novelcain]

As someone who grew up with a girl dad, I treasure those memories of my sisters and I coming up with games with our father. Makeover games were definitely among our favorites.

We would always style his hair in various shapes and paint his face and lips with cheap eyeshadow.

He was always there for us, even if it meant putting on a little makeup!!

(So, try to picture Wukong and his daughters in this scenario)

Can you imagine the great sage having tea parties with his princesses while wearing bold makeup?

We all know Wukong is a prideful man and despite all that, he would do anything for his girls.

I also get the impression that Wukong is the type of father who would spoil (and then deny it) his daughters.

He adores his family and is overjoyed to have you (his wife) and his girls by his side.

-Girl Dad wukong anon 🐋

Gods I'm sure my dad was very happy that I grew up liking "boy" things.😂 Don't get me wrong he wanted a girl so I'm sure he was prepared for all that but I can't deny that one of the reasons I formed such a strong bond with my dad was because we had such similar interests and I'm an only child so I never got to see my dad do anything like dress ups and tea party but I always loved seeing it on TV. Tho not the kind where the dad just looks humiliated and forced to go along with it but the kind where they enjoy spending the time with their daughters and get really into it and take it kinda seriously.

That's the kind of dad I imagine Wukong to be like.

I can see him dressing up in beautiful feminine hanfu with his daughters and doing their makeup and letting them try out make up on him. ESPECIALLY if reader had sensory issues like I do where I loath putting on make up so much that I refuse to do more than eyeshadow and eye liner except I don't really use either in the typical manner I like making designs kinda like line art so I'm imagining that the only time the girls get to practice is with their dad.

Reader: *walks in to see her husband and children in fancy hanfu and makeup* Aw~! Are you guys playing dress up?

Wukong: *whips around* AcTuAlLy! We've been invited to party at the Emperor's Palace and I'm using the opportunity to find me a handsome rich husband~ *flips the hair he grew out for the day so his daughters could braid it*

All the girls: *giggling at their father*

I love Dad Wukong so much~🥰